


Melted Snow

by dojaegay



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, other 127 members make guest appearences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 66,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25918894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dojaegay/pseuds/dojaegay
Summary: Doyoung gulps. There’s no decision to make, obviously, and this is simply a formality, a little show to make him believe he has some semblance of freedom left. “Yes,” he simply answers, afraid that his voice will break.“Very well,” the King sighs. He looks conflicted, somewhere between regretful and relieved, and Doyoung wants to scream at him, tear at the expensive fabric of his clothes.But instead, he bows respectfully.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 116
Kudos: 555
Collections: jaedo digest: vol. 2





	1. one

In the world Doyoung has come to know, there are very few things colder than the North’s winters. As a native, Doyoung has thick skin and even thicker walls around his heart. _The cold in the North comes from within its people_ , is a saying he’s heard from foreign diplomats in their court.

And yet, the King’s words make his second son shiver in revulsion.

Doyoung’s parents watch him expectantly, his father’s kingly stare buried under paternal worry. His mother, however, remains stoic.

Doyoung has always resembled her the most.

“I understand,” he finally speaks. He has nothing else to say.

“Son—” the King tries to speak again, but the Queen raises a hand to stop him.

“He said he understands,” the Queen, his mother, gives Doyoung a respectful stare. She’s always been the more political one out of the two monarchs, and while that made her an excellent strategist, it also turned her into a disastrous mother. “You’re aware of the financial and agricultural troubles our country faces, and how beneficial an alliance of this nature with the South could be, then. Have you made your decision, Dongyoung?” She asks using his legal name, the one used to address him as a Prince, instead of as a son.

Doyoung gulps. There’s no decision to make, obviously, and this is simply a formality, a little show to make him believe he has some semblance of freedom left. “Yes,” he simply answers, afraid that his voice will break.

“Very well,” the King sighs. He looks conflicted, somewhere between regretful and relieved, and Doyoung wants to scream at him, tear at the expensive fabric of his clothes.

But instead, he bows respectfully.

That night, as the familiar snow falls outside his window, Doyoung muffles his sobs under his covers, wetting his pillow with angry, humiliating tears. He’s ashamed of himself, of how willingly he had gone into this, how he had allowed himself to be sold off to a bigger, richer king. He punches the mattress repeatedly in a fit of rage, heartbroken cries ripping his throat.

Outside his door, the guards remain impassive.

♘

The preparations for his departure last barely a month. It was only a matter of time before this happened—his only use to the royal family was to marry into a more powerful one, to build alliances and extend family trees. He knew this was bound to happen and yet… He can’t help but mourn the loss of his freedom and youth, pushed aside by the need to fulfill his duty.

“The King of the South has deemed it necessary that you join them as soon as possible,” his mother informs him when he asks why his departure was so rushed. “He believes you will need time to adapt to their customs before you’re fit to become the Crown Prince’s husband.”

In less than a month, most of his belongings have been packed and sent off to the South so that they’ll arrive before his carriage does. He sleeps in an empty bed in his empty room, staring at the ceiling. As the date of his departure approaches, his nights become almost completely sleepless. He’s haunted by nightmares of what’s to come.

The day before Doyoung is set to leave, the Crown Prince visits the Royal Palace.

Gongmyung’s presence has always been a steady comfort in Doyoung’s life, even after he moved into the palace designated for the heir to the crown after his wedding. As soon as he received Doyoung’s letter explaining the news, he replied with the promise to visit as soon as he could.

Doyoung throws himself into his older brother’s arms the moment he spots him in the Throne Room, completely ignoring all behavioral protocols. Gongmyung isn’t in the least bit fazed, more than used to the younger prince’s antics.

“Ah, Doyoungie, you’re too heavy for this now,” he groans, but it doesn’t stop him from picking Doyoung up in a tight embrace.

“Donghyun,” their mother says sternly. She never uses their nicknames anymore.

“Sorry, mother,” Gongmyung obeys the implicit order quickly, letting go of Doyoung gently. He’s always been the more docile of the two of them, burdened by the weight of the future crown on his shoulders.

The King places a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you, son,” he speaks affectionately. “I’m glad you could come and bid farewell to your brother.”

“Of course,” Gongmyung answers cheerfully, but his smile tenses. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Doyoung swallows the lump in his throat.

His last night in the North is as restless as the past month has been. After dining with his family and sharing a couple of drinks with his brother, Doyoung spends hours tossing and turning in bed, chasing sleep that seems to evade him purposefully. Eventually, he kicks off his covers, exasperated, and stomps to his door. None of the guards seem fazed as he walks out of his room angrily. He doesn’t have any destination in mind, instead choosing to roam around the place he grew up in one last time. He sneaks into the kitchen, an area mostly unknown to him, wondering if he’ll be able to find any wine to calm himself down.

“Can’t sleep?” His brother’s voice startles him out of his infuriated spell, and he lets out a sharp gasp that prompts a loud laugh out of the crown prince.

Doyoungs finds Gongmyung standing in a corner, a glass of wine in his hand. He puffs out an incredulous snort as he approaches his brother. “It seems we had the same idea.”

“Is that so?” Gongmyung smirks, pouring Doyoung a glass before he even gets the chance to ask. “Have you taken to alcoholism now? At such a young age?” He hands Doyoung the glass.

“Oh, please,” Doyoung rolls his eyes before taking a large sip. “If I’m old enough to be married off to some stranger, I’m old enough to drown my sorrows in alcohol.”

Gongmyung lets out a chuckle, but it’s clear that Doyoung’s words have unnerved him in the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“How do you feel?” He asks, voice gentle and eyes even gentler.

“Like a lovely, shiny coin,” Doyoung says into the glass. “Used for trade.”

Gongmyung rubs the back of his brother’s neck. “You know there’s more to it than that. This arrangement could save our kingdom, our home.”

Doyoung lets out a long, defeated sigh. “I’m well aware. Otherwise, I would have already thrown a fit. If I’m going to be sold off, it better be for good reason.” He shakes his head. “It was bound to happen.”

Gongmyung pours himself another glass. “Do you know who he is?” There’s no need to specify which _he_ Gongmyung could be referring to.

“The Crown Prince of the South,” Doyoung says. “Jaehyun of the Jeong dynasty.”

Gongmyung nods. “So I’d heard.” He takes a short sip. “He’s very popular in the entire continent, you know?”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “For what reason, exactly?”

“Well, other than the fact that he’s the heir to the most powerful kingdom in our continent, I’d say it probably has to do with his looks.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes again. “It always does.”

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, simply enjoying their wine and each other’s presence.

“I know you must be scared,” Gongmyung breaks the silence. His voice is deep and drenched in brotherly love. “But you need to remain strong, if not for the good of the North then for your own.”

Doyoung nods, digging his nails into the palms of his hands to prevent himself from crying. “I will, I promise.”

Gongmyung grabs him by the shoulders and turns his body so they’re standing face to face. “I know we’ve been taught otherwise, as men of the North, but strength doesn’t always come from the cold. Strength,” he takes a shaky breath, “strength is also learning to love, and allowing yourself to be loved.”

A single tear rolls down Doyoung’s cheek. “I understand,” his voice is barely a whisper, but it’s true—he understands his brother’s words, and they terrify him.

“Promise me you’ll try to find happiness there, in the South.” Gongmyung wipes Doyoung’s tears. “Even if it’s on your own.”

Doyoung nods, and he leans into his older brother’s arms. “I’ll try,” he murmurs into Gongmyung’s shoulder.

“I’m proud of you,” the crown prince says. “Prince Dongyoung of the North.”

♘

The morning of Doyoung’s dreaded departure is a cold one. The sky turns white with the promise of an incoming snowstorm as soon as the sun rises, and Doyoung wonders how life will feel like without the silver colors of the North.

“Your carriage is ready, your Highness,” his designated guard, a man only a few years older than him called Johnny, informs him. He has honey colored eyes and soft brown hair, a dark contrast to the cold tones of the North, but he’s beautiful enough to give Doyoung some semblance of excitement for the South and its warmth.

Doyoung takes a deep sigh before nodding. Behind him, the King and Queen stand proudly at the top of the stone steps, their eldest son by their side. Gongmyung descends with firm steps, clad in formal attire. With his hair swept back and his shoulders covered in a heavy, opulent cape, he looks more like a king than he ever has. And yet, when he wraps his arms around Doyoung, he feels like nothing more than a brother.

“I’ll visit you as soon as I can,” he speaks into Doyoung’s ear, hugging him impossibly tight. “I’ll get you the most exorbitant wedding gift.”

Doyoung lets out a small laugh, but it comes out as more of a cry. “I’ll take care of myself, don’t worry.”

He buries his face in Gongmyung’s shoulder, breathing in his brother’s familiar smell as if trying to burn it into his memory.

His brother finally pulls away, cupping Doyoung’s cheek for a moment before stepping back and bowing dramatically, like a commoner would in front of a royal. Doyoung can hear their mother gasp sharply from behind Gongmyung, and his cheeks turn a deep red because of his brother’s indiscretion.

“Be safe, my brother,” the crown prince says. No formal farewell, no honorifics, just words from a man to his brother.

Doyoung smiles weakly, looking past Gongmyung at the colorless castle he grew up in. His parents nod at him one last time, just as dull as their fortress.

He turns around, climbing into the carriage confidently. The door shuts behind him with finality.

Doyoung is ready to leave.

♘

As ready as he had thought himself to be, Doyoung spends the first hours of his journey sobbing his eyes out. Thick, childish tears roll down his cheeks as he allows himself one last moment of weakness. God knows he’ll need his strength later on.

In front of him, on the other side of the carriage, Johnny sits silently, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, but it’s clear that he wants to give the prince some sort of privacy even when they’re stuck in the same tiny carriage.

“Hey,” Doyoung speaks up once he’s done crying. His voice is hoarse and raw, and his throat aches terribly. “Your name is Johnny, right?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Johnny answers with a respectful tone. His light brown eyes widen in surprise, taken aback by Doyoung’s sudden words.

“You are… warm,” Doyoung says, thoughts too hazy. “You’re not from here, are you?”

Johnny smiles, embarrassed. He’s much too soft to be a member of the Northern Guard. “Ah, not exactly, Your Highness. I was born in a small village along the border between the North and the Middlelands.”

Doyoung frowns. “How did a foreigner end up in the royal guard?”

“My mother was a pure Northerner, Your Highness. She worked as one of the Queen’s maids, before the Crown Prince was even born,” Johnny explains with loving eyes. Doyoung can feel the bond between him and his mother through his words, and his heart stings with painful jealousy. “Your mother assigned me as your guard when she prepared for your departure.”

Doyoung’s eyebrows shoot up. “She did? Why?”

Johnny gives him a kind smile. “She thought having someone your age accompany you would make you feel more comfortable. And I heard she also loved my mother dearly, all those years ago. I guess she wanted you to not only be well protected, but also well accompanied.”

Doyoung deflates into his seat, emotionally exhausted. He looks out the window—they haven’t even left the Sacred Mountain—where the Fortress is built on—behind. “I hope we get along well, then.” His voice comes out as a tired breath.

Johnny nods politely. “I hope so too, Your Highness.”

♘

They barely reach the border before night falls. Northern winter nights can be lethal, and a tired driver is a reckless driver, so both Doyoung and Johnny decide to call it a day as they reach one of the last towns in Northern territory. The journey from the Fortress to the border is a long and tedious one, especially considering the location of the first, between ancient and wicked mountains. It’s the main reason why the Northern royals barely interact with their people, and it’s also why Doyoung doesn’t even bother to conceal himself.

“Your Highness—” Johnny starts to speak, but Doyoung quickly interrupts him.

“Doyoung is fine,” he says, impertinent. “Primarily because we want to keep my identity a secret, right?”

Johnny blushes deeply. “Yes, of course, Your— Doyoung.” He clears his throat before continuing. “We should find a place to stay the night in quickly. I don’t want us to roam the streets more than strictly necessary.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “For God’s sake, I’m a prince, not a Crown Jewel.”

“Excuse my indiscretion, _Doyoung_ , but politically speaking, you might as well be worth a thousand jewels right now,” Johnny retorts before dragging the prince towards the safest looking inn.

That night, Doyoung falls asleep surprisingly fast, lulled by Johnny’s soft breaths. He dreams of a warm country, with golden beaches and clear skies.

♘

The rest of the journey is as uneventful as Doyoung was expecting it to be. The cold, white colors of the North give way to the green and lively tones of the Middlelands, and Doyoung finds himself discovering a bit of hope among the flowers that frame the endless roads.

Johnny keeps him good company, sharing childhood stories and anecdotes with him that a prince could only ever dream of, laden with the weight of his title. Eventually, something blossoms between them—a friendship, perhaps, or a companionship at the very least. Doyoung finds comfort in Johnny’s presence, and he silently thanks his mother for her decision.

The South turns out to be as warm as the stories had told. Doyoung’s black garments stick to his skin, the Southern heat making him sweat profusely even though they were in winter.

“How can people live like this?” He whines as he tries and fails to fan himself with a bony hand.

Johnny shrugs. “The same way Northerners live with the cruel cold.”

The last night before his scheduled arrival in the capital city, Doyoung sits on the balcony of their rented room. The Southern nights are very pleasant, he discovers, and the stars shine without dark clouds masking them.

“How are you feeling?” Johnny asks him from his bed. He’s reading a romance book, something disgustingly sappy that only a man like him could read, but he quickly puts it down when he sees the worry in Doyoung’s eyes.

“Like…” Doyoung struggles to find the proper words. “I feel like this country is beautiful.”

Johnny frowns. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Doyoung turns to look up at the stars again. “It means that it’s beautiful enough to make me want to look for happiness in it.”

♘

The Capital City of the Southern Kingdom is a clear show of both financial and political power, Doyoung realizes as soon as their carriage makes its way through the city’s impressive walls.

The architecture is breathtaking, painted in bright colors and built with open spaces. The city planning is sort of chaotic, but it adds a certain charm; there’s some charisma in the way the streets keep going up and down, left and right.

But, most of all, the city is _alive_. There are people in the streets—trading, drinking, working, or simply enjoying a beautiful day outside. Kids run around in the plazas, letting out happy, cheerful laughs.

Something stirs inside Doyoung at this sight. He might not love his circumstances, or the reason why he ended up in this place, but he sure loves the City and its welcoming and unconditional warmth.

And when he sees the Royal Palace rise from between the tall buildings and over the sea, Doyoung’s heart stops in his chest. It’s nothing like he’s ever seen before, a piece of modern architecture, designed and built with the utmost care and attention to detail. Absolutely nothing about it reminds Doyoung of home and, strangely, he finds comfort in this. A bridge connects the shore of the city to the Palace’s front, and Doyoung can’t help but stick his head out of the window to stare in awe at the endless sea as they ride through the long platform.

The carriage comes to a halt once they reach the front steps. There’s so many of them, Doyoung wonders if he’s fit enough to climb them.

“Wait in here until I come help you out,” Johnny orders him, apparently comfortable enough for that. Doyoung raises an eyebrow, which causes his guard to blush in embarrassment. “There’s protocol to follow,” the guard quickly explains as he climbs out.

Doyoung’s door opens a few seconds later. Johnny offers him a hand, which he takes, and he climbs out of the carriage as gracefully as his heavy clothes allow him to.

There’s a man waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. He’s dressed in traditional Southern clothes, made with soft, thin fabric in light colors, designed to fit loosely as to not absorb the heat. The glistening pink satin robe wavers at the man's feet from the salty breeze.

As they approach the man slowly, Doyoung’s attention is immediately drawn to his face. He looks young, barely older than the prince himself, and he is probably one of the most beautiful people Doyoung has ever seen in his life. His features, although a bit exaggerated, are proportionate enough to make his face perfectly balanced between traditionally handsome and enticingly exotic. He’s almost a head shorter than Doyoung, but his presence is strong enough to more than make up for it.

“Prince Dongyoung of the Kim dynasty, second in line to the Throne of the North,” the man says once he stands before him. He bows respectfully, but with enough dignity to make it clear that he is used to interacting with royals. “My name is Taeyong of the Lee House, the Crown Prince’s main advisor.” Doyoung nods in acknowledgement, a gesture that makes Taeyong smile slightly. “I’ve been assigned to accompany you during your training.”

Doyoung frowns. “My training? What training?”

Taeyong laughs nervously, as if he hadn’t been expecting that question. “Well, you must train before you’re fit to become the Crown Prince’s consort, of course.”

Doyoung squints his eyes. He’d been warned about this, by both his mother and their advisors, but the concept of the training process still sounded borderline offensive to his princely ears. “Very well,” he replies frigidly. “And where is this Crown Prince of yours?” He asks, deliberately disrespectful.

Taeyong’s smile tenses. “Don’t worry about that, Your Highness. You’ll meet the Crown Prince soon.” He moves aside, raising an inviting hand that points to the massive door at the top of the stairs. “Shall we?”

Doyoung lets out a tired, irritated sigh. “Lead the way, Advisor.”

The inside of the Royal Palace is even more magnificent than the outside. Everything seems to be decorated with sparks of gold, and the ceilings are painted with detailed murals of popular Southern myths. The marble floors and stone walls provide some relief from the heat, and Doyoung can’t wait until he’s finally out of his thick Northern clothes.

“This is the main entranceway,” Taeyong explains as they walk towards a grandiose staircase at the end of the passage. “It’s mostly reserved for formal visits, such as Your Highness’.” Taeyong gives the prince a comforting smile. “But worry not, from now on, as a member of the Royal Family, you will have access to the private entrances.”

“Are they at least ground-level?” Doyoung groans.

Taeyong lets out an amused laugh. “Yes, Your Highness.”

The staircase is built in marble and covered in a lavish, deep red rug. There are sculptures and other decorations everywhere, and Doyoung wonders how anyone would even have the energy to live surrounded by constant stimuli.

Taeyong leads him up the stairs. “Right now, we are in the middle of the Palace,” he pants as he climbs. “The Crown Prince’s private quarters are on the third floor of the West wing, as well as yours.”

“We have separate quarters?” Doyoung asks, bewildered.

“For the time being, yes. After your wedding, preferably not, but arrangements can be made if you wish,” Taeyong explains as they continue to climb up, leaving the first floor behind. “It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing happens, although we all hope it won’t be necessary, of course.”

They reach the third floor—which Doyoung finds out is actually nowhere near the last, unfortunately—, and Johnny offers a strong arm for the prince to lean on, which he quickly refuses. The gesture doesn’t go unnoticed, and Taeyong watches the prince and his guard interact with eyes full of interest.

“Staff such as servants and guards have their own chambers on the lowest floor,” the advisor clarifies, looking at Johnny attentively. “You’re more than welcome to keep your personal guard, but others will be appointed to escort you around and outside the palace.”

Doyoung remains silent as they walk through the labyrinthian walls of the third floor, their boots clicking against the floor. They run into some busy maids, who stop dead in their tracks the moment they catch sight of Doyoung—in all his Northern prince glory—before they start bowing repeatedly and walking away at the same time.

“Are all servants here this dramatic?” The prince asks, taken aback by the maids’ reaction.

“Ah, well,” Taeyong rubs the back of his neck. “All of the palace’s workers take their position very seriously, Your Highness. You are the future Prince consort, and they will address you as such.”

Doyoung nods in understanding. Back home, he’d been simply a prince, nothing more than the second in line. But here… Here, he was the Crown Prince’s betrothed, future consort of the King of the South.

Eventually, they reach the end of the hallway, where it branches out to both left and right.

“That,” Taeyong points to the door on the left side, “is the Crown Prince’s bedchamber. And this,” he points to the door on the right, “is yours.”

The doors to Doyoung’s private quarters are a deep red color, carved in the finest wood, and Taeyong pushes them open confidently as he leads the prince inside.

The room is bigger than Doyoung expected, perhaps even bigger than the one he’d lived in as a prince in the North.

A massive canopy bed with sheer blue curtains stands at the end of the room, framed by two mahogany nightstands. On the other side of the room, there are a couple of bookshelves and loveseats, along with a tea table and a desk with an inkwell and a fountain pen. The entire room is lit by the sunlight, effortlessly coming through what has to be the biggest window Doyoung has seen in his entire life.

“The Royal Family hopes it will be enough to meet your needs,” Taeyong says with a tilt of his head.

“I—” Doyoung is nearly speechless. “It’s more than enough.”

Taeyong smiles, pleased. “Here,” he speaks as he walks to a door on the corner Doyoung failed to notice, “is your private bathroom. You can request a bath anytime, and the maids will prepare it for you immediately.”

“Uhm…” Doyoung is unsure of what to say. He’s never witnessed this much luxury in his life. “Very well.”

Taeyong approaches him again. “I assume you’re very tired from your long journey. Your training will begin tomorrow morning, so I will leave you to rest now, Your Highness.” He bows deeply before leaving the room. Doyoung turns around to dismiss Johnny as well, who frowns in worry before finally nodding and leaving after Taeyong.

Privacy is something Doyoung has always treasured as a prince, constantly surrounded by tutors, maids, guards and whatnot, so the moment he finds himself alone in his new, massive bedroom, he runs to the bed and drops himself on what has to be the softest mattress he’s ever touched.

“Oh, God,” he groans in exhaustion. He’s aware of how disheveled and non-princely he must look right now, lying in bed fully dressed, but he’s too drained to care.

As his eyes close on their own volition, the only thing his brain can focus on is the flowery smell of his new bedsheets.

He awakes, hours later, to the sound of light knocks on his door.

“Your Highness?” A soft female voice says from outside.

Doyoung’s eyes struggle to focus in the pitch-black darkness of his room. He must have slept until nightfall.

“Yes?” He answers, voice raspy from sleep.

The maid opens his door slowly. She’s struggling to carry a heavy bucket of water with her small arms, and Doyoung worries she might trip and spill it all over his floor.

“The Crown Prince’s advisor deemed it necessary that you destress from your long trip with an aromatic bath, Your Highness. He thought you might be too humble to ask for one on your first night.”

Doyoung sits up on the bed. If the maid finds it strange that he was sleeping with even his cape on, she doesn’t mention it. “Aro— _what_?”

The servant smiles gently, finally walking into the room and closing the door behind her. “I’ll prepare the bath, Your Highness.” She runs into his bathroom, careful not to let a single drop fall onto the floor. Doyoung, still hazy from his deep sleep, can’t do anything but scratch the back of his dead and push himself out of bed.

The maid comes out a few minutes later, her sleeves rolled up and hands wet. Doyoung walks into the bathroom with slow, sleepy steps, but the smell is so strong that he feels himself wake up instantly.

“This smell… is it—?”

“Lavender, Your Highness,” she answers instantly, following him into the room. “Imported from the Middlelands. It has many medicinal properties, including treating anxiety and restlessness.”

Doyoung hums. The bathtub—made with marble and gold, as everything seems to be in this Palace—is filled to the brim with lilac-tainted water. Doyoung stands in front of it, watching the lavender leaves float adrift.

“Y-Your Highness?” The maid asks nervously after a long silence. “Is something wrong? Would you prefer another—”

“No,” Doyoung cuts her off, annoyed and irritated from his long day. “I’m just waiting for you to leave.”

The maid looks at him, mouth agape. “Leave? But who will wash you, Your Highness?”

Doyoung stares at her like she’d grown a second head. “Wash me? Why would I need anyone to wash me?” He unbuttons his cape, letting it fall to the floor carelessly. “You’re dismissed.”

She blushes deeply and bows. “I’m terribly sorry if I offended you, Your Highness,” she apologizes, clearly mortified, before leaving the room.

Doyoung rolls his eyes as he continues to undress. Getting rid of his heavy Northern clothes provides almost instant relief, and he kicks his thick snow boots off with finality before sinking into the warm water.

He washes himself slowly but thoroughly, massaging his stiff legs and swollen feet until his entire body feels weightless. He washes two weeks’ worth of dust and sweat off of his hair, running his fingers through it fervently to detangle it. By the time he’s done, the clear water has slightly darkened, and Doyoung wonders how he could have lived with all that on his skin for weeks.

He drips water all over the floor as he steps out, careful not to slip. Shivering slightly, he runs to grab one of the bathrobes hanging from the wall, wrapping it around himself with fast fingers. And then, he realizes—his clothes.

Everything he’s sent from the North are, well, Northern clothes, clearly not appropriate for this type of weather. Doyoung can’t imagine himself walking around with his black fur capes and thick-soled boots. He’d look nothing short of ridiculous.

As he rubs his damp hair with one of the robe’s sleeves, Doyoung walks back into the bedroom. To his surprise, the room is now lit with the toasty toned light of the oil lamps set on both night tables, undoubtedly the work of some servant. As if he couldn’t have done that himself.

As he approaches the bed, Doyoung finds a small package wrapped in fine cotton with a note resting on top of it. He picks it up and reads:

_Your Royal Highness,_

_When we received your luggage—which was handled with exhaustive care—, we couldn’t help but notice how none of your clothing would be comfortable enough to wear here, in the South. I hope our indiscretion will be forgiven, but the Queen insisted on replacing your wardrobe with more appropriate clothes; all tailored to fit you like a glove, as we used your garments as reference. Don’t hesitate to request anything else you may need._

_At your service,_

_Lee Taeyong_

“Well, I guess that’s one less problem,” Doyoung says aloud as he sets the note aside and unwraps the package, careful not to tear it.

Inside, there’s a two-piece set of nightwear, made from silk. When Doyoung pulls it out of the package, the impossibly soft fabric flows like water, reflecting the faint light coming from the lamps. Doyoung slips off his bathrobe before sliding into his new sleepwear, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as he feels the delicate fabric on his skin.

He finally slithers into bed, lethargic from the exhaustion he had been carrying on his back for nearly a month. Despite his short rest from earlier, sleep finds him easily, and Doyoung—buried in cotton sheets and covered in silk—decides that he could get used to this.


	2. two

The threatening feeling of being watched pulls Doyoung out of his slumber, and he lets out a loud screech when he finds Taeyong’s round eyes above his head.

“What the hell?!” He cries out.

“Forgive me, Your Highness!” Taeyong quickly apologizes, a deep red blush spreading across his pretty face. “I was waiting for you to wake up so we could start your training, but your sleep seemed so peaceful…”

“So, you decided to watch me instead?” Doyoung reproaches, pushing himself up until he’s sitting in bed.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” the advisor excuses himself again as he steps aside so the prince can jump out of the massive bed. “I’ll be waiting for you outside, then,” he nods before quickly leaving the room, holding the door open for a couple of maids who carry what must be his suit for today.

The young girls help him into his new clothes with swift hands and furtive eyes. Doyoung can tell that they’re curious about him, observing him and his room discreetly, eager to leave so they can finally gossip about the future Prince consort.

The garments are simple and easy to adjust around his frame, so it only takes a few minutes until he’s ready. His eyes meet one of the girls’ as she rises from the ground, where she was adjusting his pant leg, and she blushes brightly, pulling a snort out of Doyoung.

The maids leave quickly once they’re done, whispering to each other in hushed tones. “ _Ah, but he’s beautiful,_ ” he hears the younger, more inexperienced one say as they walk out the door. “ _He’ll look stunning beside the Crown Prince…_.”

Taeyong peeks his head in once the girls are outside. “Are you ready, Your Highness?”

Doyoung lets out a heavy sigh. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

His first lesson is apparently nothing more than a walk around the massive inside gardens of the palace.

“It’s to prevent people from falling into the water,” Taeyong explains when Doyoung asks why the palace was built with an interior garden. “As I’m sure you already know, noblemen and women can get a little _carried away_ during festivities.”

Doyoung cackles at the thought of a drunk nobleman plunging into the sea.

The gardens, although not as obnoxiously big as Doyoung had been expecting, are vast enough to hold a lake within them, filled with bright-colored fish and elegant swans. The entire garden is covered in radiant flowers, some of which Doyoung can’t even identify. Taeyong leads him through a stone path as he shares his knowledge with Doyoung.

“The Queen’s love for flowers is present all around our palace, but I believe it is most prominent here, in the Royal Gardens,” he speaks as his fingers brush the leaves gently.

“She was born in the Middlelands, wasn’t she?” Doyoung never paid much attention to his geopolitical classes, but he knew when something was worth remembering or not—and a monarch’s background is _always_ worth remembering.

“That is correct,” Taeyong confirms. “She was third in line to the throne when she married our King. She was the first foreigner to marry into the Southern royal family in centuries, and I’ve heard she’s very glad you’re here to continue that tradition.”

“And what do the people think?” Doyoung asks with dread. From his knowledge, the people of the South are much more open than the people of the North, but he wouldn’t be surprised to hear that they still refuse to acknowledge him as Prince consort because of his country of origin.

“The p—Oh, of course, I forgot!” Taeyong slaps his forehead in embarrassment. “You will formally be introduced as the Crown Prince’s betrothed in the Spring Equinox Ball, in less than a month.”

Doyoung frowns at the advisor’s words. “You mean to tell me that the people of the South aren’t aware of my future position in their Royal Family?”

Taeyong gives him a tense smile. “It’s tradition in the South for the Crown Prince to announce his nuptials during the Spring Equinox. Don’t worry about it, Your Highness, our people love the Prince enough to accept even a horse as his bride.”

Doyoung raises his eyebrows, unimpressed, but he decides not to comment on the unfortunate comparison. “And what can you tell me about this magnificent Crown Prince of yours? After all, we are to be married, and yet he seems like a ghostly presence in his own Palace.”

Taeyong chuckles, amused. “Well, the Prince is a very busy man, of course, but he also has an unfortunate tendency towards reclusion. That makes him elusive, to say the least, but worry not—you will meet him soon.”

Doyoung plays with the sleeves of his shirt nervously. “And when is that?”

“Next week, hopefully. You both need to prepare for the Ball, together.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes when Taeyong looks away. “Right, of course we do.”

♘

Doyoung spends the rest of his week jumping from tutor to tutor, studying the basics of Southern etiquette and protocol. Holding a teacup, bowing in the right degree or walking a certain way all seem essential to life in the Southern Court, and the Northern prince wonders how these people even have the energy to follow all of these rules without ripping their hair out in frustration every single day.

On Doyoung’s sixth night in the palace, Taeyong walks him to his chambers with a kind smile. As they reach his door, the advisor calls the prince’s attention with a soft hum.

“Your Highness,” he starts, respectful as always. “I’m happy to inform you that the date you have been so eagerly waiting for has finally come.”

Doyoung stares at him, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Tomorrow, you will meet our Crown Prince, your betrothed!” He exclaims with a wide smile. “From now on, you and the Prince will be allowed to meet weekly, as preparations for the Spring Equinox Ball are scheduled to begin soon.”

“Ah, of course,” Doyoung exhales.

 _Preparations, training, tailoring, styling_. Did he move to the South to marry the Crown Prince or to become a human-sized doll?

The advisor opens his mouth again, but Doyoung interrupts him before he can add any more fuel to the fire burning inside the prince. “Goodnight, Taeyong,” he says dryly, closing the door on the poor man’s face.

That night, before bed, he lights the candle on his desk and gets to writing.

_My dearest brother,_

_I hope the Winter is treating you and the Princess kindly. The scorching heat of the South has turned all of my memories blurry, but if there’s something I remember, it’s the cold. You can take a man out of the North, but you’ll never take the North out of a man._

_The past few weeks have been… Difficult. I arrived at the Capital City six days ago, after a long and tedious trip from one end of the continent to the other. The South is beautiful—all endless, blue seas and open skies. And the Palace! Gongmyung, the Palace is stunning, and more luxurious than anything you’ve probably seen or will ever see. I now understand why Mother had been so pleased with this arrangement—these people can buy our Kingdom ten times if they want to. I can’t even begin to describe it so, surely, you must come and see for yourself, brother._

_Sadly, all this beauty that surrounds me hasn’t done much to calm my apprehension. Tomorrow, I’m meeting the Crown Prince, my future husband, for the first time. His presence in the Palace is similar to that of a myth, as everyone speaks of him and his power is evident, but I am yet to even catch a glimpse of him._

_I promised you that I would try to find happiness and love here, but I’m beginning to wonder if that is even a possibility, at least with my husband. His weeklong silence has led me to believe that he probably sees this arrangement as nothing more than a strategic decision—which, in all fairness, isn’t too far from the truth. I suppose I will find out soon._

_Please, write back as soon as you read this. I miss you terribly._

_Your baby brother,_

_Doyoung_

♘

He barely has time to wake up the next morning before his room becomes crowded with servants—maids, seamstresses, barbers… Taeyong leads them all with his firm but kind voice, although Doyoung can see that he’s nervous too, if the way his left eye keeps twitching means anything.

They drag him into the bathroom, ignoring his request for privacy, and wash him thoroughly. He comes out with spotless skin but a damaged dignity.

Before he can even begin to process anything, he finds himself in front of the mirror on his vanity table, completely dressed. Today’s suit is a soft green color, and it fits a little tighter than the previous ones had, accentuating his broad shoulders and slim waist.

“You look ravishing,” Taeyong comments as a barber styles Doyoung’s hair while a cosmetologist—something he didn’t even know existed—applies a sheer layer of colored powder on his eyelids.

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?” Doyoung replies, sharp as always.

Taeyong’s eyes fall to the floor, embarrassed. Doyoung has the decency to feel some guilt, but the advisor’s perpetual optimism is starting to wear him down. “It is, Your Highness,” he answers. “I highly suggest you embrace it. Someone who looks as beautiful as you do right now shouldn’t feel anything other than pride.”

Once the advisor deems him ready, Doyoung is pulled out of his room and into the endless corridors of the Palace. A couple of armed guards walk behind him and Taeyong as they make their way to the room where he was supposed to finally meet his husband-to-be.

Another set of guards stand before the dreaded room, and Doyoung takes a deep breath as reality starts to sink in, no longer bundled up in the fascination of the morning’s extravagance. This isn’t a play or a game—this is real life, _his_ real life, and he is about to meet his future spouse for the first time. The Crown Prince of the South, heir to the throne.

He’s pulled out of his stupor by the loud banging noise of the doors opening forcefully. A young man he’s never seen before comes out of the room, carrying himself with an unmistakable air of immature pride. He has tanned, sun-kissed skin and dark curly hair, and he’s dressed in nothing but silk pants and a flimsy, loose-fitting white shirt—an outfit that would be much more inappropriate if the boy wasn’t so young. He lets out a loud gasp the moment he spots them, and his face contorts into a mischievous grin as his eyes fall on Doyoung.

“Well, well,” he sings as he approaches them with confident strides. “Why, you’re much prettier than I thought you would be.”

“Hyuck,” Taeyong immediately chides the boy. “Address the Prince with some respect.”

The boy—Hyuck—rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t drop his grin. “My apologies, Your Highness. As excited as I am to finally see you in the flesh, I suggest you hurry inside. His Royal Pain in the Ass is in a particularly bad mood today.”

Taeyong gives him a harsh look. “Begone, demon,” he shoos the boy with the familiarity of a childhood spent together, and Hyuck obeys, not without winking at Doyoung one last time.

“Who was _that_?” Doyoung asks, somewhere between mortified and entertained.

“Forget about him, at least for now,” Taeyong urges him to walk until they’re both standing in front of the wooden doors. “You have more pressing matters to attend to.”

Doyoung rolls his shoulders once, twice. He lets out a long, shaky breath. Then he nods at the guards, who push the doors open for him.

Doyoung steps inside with slow, hesitant steps. The room is wide and spacious, lit by a massive chandelier hanging in the center. Surprisingly, it’s almost unfurnished, except for a large dinner table, filled with food and drinks. And, at the head, sits the Crown Prince.

After weeks of hearing nothing but tales of the Prince’s unmatched beauty, Doyoung finds himself shocked at the sight of him. He is beautiful, of course, perhaps more than anyone Doyoung has ever seen before, with his high cheekbones and sharp eyes, but, at the same time, he’s nothing more than a young man.

The Prince’s eyes meet Doyoung’s almost instantly, and he holds his gaze as he takes a seat at the other end of the table.

“His Royal Highness, Second Prince of the North, Dongyoung of the Kim dynasty, and His Royal Highness, Crown Prince of the South, Jaehyun of the Jeong dynasty,” Taeyong introduces them with ease. Doyoung can almost see him practicing in front of a mirror the night before. After bowing twice—one for the Crown Prince and another one for Doyoung—he exits the room, leaving the two princes alone with each other.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you, Your Highness,” the Crown Prince greets him with a fake, princely smile. The table is so long that Doyoung feels as if his betrothed is miles away.

He feels even more unattainable now than when he had been nothing more than his title in Doyoung’s mind.

“You too, Your Highness,” Doyoung responds, equally as artificial.

“I apologize for making you wait for so long,” Jaehyun speaks, no emotion in his deep voice. He has a pretty mouth—Doyoung notices as he watches him speak—with pink, plump lips and pearly white teeth. “My schedule as heir to the Throne is nothing if not full.”

Doyoung nods. “And I suppose meeting your future husband wasn’t at the top of your list,” he says with mock respect.

Jaehyun’s lovely eyes widen, taken aback by Doyoung’s razor-sharp speech. “I, w-well,” he blinks twice, composing himself quickly. “I’m not exactly in control when it comes to those decisions, Your Highness.”

Doyoung swallows his pride, blushing slightly in embarrassment. He’d been so set on resenting his fiancé that he had forgotten that Jaehyun is also a prince, and thus bound to the same rules and protocol as Doyoung was. “Right,” is his only answer.

“After today, we are scheduled to meet once a week before you are formally introduced as my betrothed,” Jaehyun states, perfectly serene again. “I’d like to show you around my Palace and my country, if you’d let me. Of course, you’re welcome to decline if you prefer.”

For a moment, Doyoung considers rejecting Jaehyun’s offer, if only to smack that stupid perfect prince mask off of his face, but the promise he’d made to his brother rings loudly in his head. _Promise me you’ll try to find happiness, there in the South. I’ll try._

Jaehyun’s offer is probably part of a perfectly structured script, but it also means the possibility of building a bond between them as man to man instead of as prince to prince. And, eventually, as husband to husband as well.

“Very well,” Doyoung accepts as he looks directly into Jaehyun’s eyes. “I accept.”

♘

_My dearest Gongmyung,_

_I apologize for writing so soon after my previous letter, as I’m sure they’ll both reach you almost simultaneously. Sadly, I am yet to find a confidant in this monster of a Palace, and I find refuge in my pen and paper._

_As I’m sure you can already guess, today was the day I finally met the Crown Prince, my future husband._

_Strangely, he reminds me of the North in ways nothing else in this country have before. He is cold as snow, and his beauty is just as exquisite as well. He’s stiff and completely composed, the perfect embodiment of his title. In a way, he… He reminds me of Mother._

_I was not very impressed with our first meeting, and, in fact, when he offered to spend more time with me, I felt the compelling urge to reject him. But then I remembered the promise I made to you to try and find happiness and love here._

_I don’t know if I will grow to love the Prince, or even if he will even let me love him, but I have learnt that days spent in loneliness are days wasted, and I didn’t travel all the way to the South to waste my life._

_Your loving brother,_

_Doyoung_

♘

Following his first meeting with the Crown Prince, Doyoung’s schedule becomes even more crammed. As he’s escorted from room to room, from early morning until nighttime, he doesn’t catch a single glimpse of Jaehyun in the entire week. The door at the other end of the corridor remains shut whenever Doyoung looks at it, and he starts to wonder if he was lied to about the real location of the Crown Prince’s quarters in an attempt to make Doyoung feel closer to him.

However, the week passes by quickly, and soon the Northern Prince finds himself being escorted to the ballroom, where he’s supposed to meet Jaehyun and their dance instructor.

“Johnny?” He gasps in pleasant surprise when he finds his guard waiting outside his door.

“Doyoung!” The taller man smiles widely at him. He’s dressed in the Southern Royal Guard’s uniform, its white and gold tones contrasting beautifully with his dark hair.

“Where have you been?” Doyoung asks, baffled. “I was starting to think they had sent you back to the North.”

“Ah, well, they tried,” Johnny admits with a shrug. “They found it a bit, uhm, problematic to have a member of the Northern guard living amongst the Southerners, but I managed to convince them to let me join the Royal Guard instead of getting repatriated.”

“Oh, John,” Doyoung lets out a happy, relieved sigh. “I’m so happy to hear that. But what are you doing here? Surely you must have heard about my plans for today. I’ve caught the maids gossiping about it multiple times.”

Johnny lets out an amused laugh. “Yes, about that… That tiny advisor appointed me as your personal guard from now on. Apparently, he believes that you will feel more comfortable in the company of a familiar face.”

Doyoung decides not to comment on the fact that Johnny has just referred to a nobleman in the Southern Court as “tiny advisor”. “That’s… ideal.” His face breaks out into a comforted smile for the first time in weeks. “So, let us carry out our respective duties.”

Johnny does an exaggerated version of the Southern bow. “Your Highness,” he says, mocking the pompous accent and stretching out a polite arm. “After you.”

The Ball Room is one of the biggest in the Palace, Doyoung is informed as he changes into the proper shoes for dancing.

Jaehyun is already wearing his, as he had arrived first. Today he looks a little less stiff than the last time, and a few rebellious strands of hair fall onto his forehead. He nods at Doyoung when the Northern Prince approaches him, and his fringe sways slightly.

Their dance instructor is a short woman with soft features but firm hands, named Irene. There’s no hesitance in the way she grabs Jaehyun’s hand and places it around Doyoung’s waist, making them both turn red. Jaehyun clears his throat to regain his composure, but his eyes avoid Doyoung’s in embarrassment. That’s when he comes to a realization—Prince Jaehyun, heir to the Southern Throne, is shy.

A tiny laugh of amusement escapes Doyoung’s lips, and Jaehyun’s eyes finally look up, meeting his betrothed’s. At the sight of Doyoung’s smile, he chuckles slightly as well, and his shoulder relaxes under Doyoung’s hand.

“Yes, yes, very funny,” Irene scolds them, but there’s no malice in her voice. “Now get to dancing.”

Jaehyun’s hand is impossibly soft around Doyoung’s as he takes hold of it. He has long, elegant fingers and smooth palms. They’re delicate hands, hands that would not survive a day in the cold air of the North. Against them, Doyoung’s hands appear rougher and knobbier, but Jaehyun holds them with absolute tenderness as he spins Doyoung around himself with the ease of a practiced dancer.

Jaehyun’s confidence soon permeates into Doyoung, who allows himself to be led by the other prince without his usual defiance. The Crown Prince’s steps are both swift and stable, and he leads Doyoung calmly but surely. He barely lets out a gasp when Doyoung’s steps on him repeatedly.

“That is enough for today, Your Royal Highnesses,” Irene dismisses them after a few stressful hours. The back of Doyoung’s neck is covered in sweat and the soles of his feet throb in pain. The Crown Prince also looks somewhat disheveled, and his sweaty palms stick to Doyoung’s when he pulls away.

As Doyoung changes back into his dress shoes with the ever-present help of a maid, he sees a shadow loom over him. “My prince,” Jaehyun’s deep voice calls him from above, and Doyoung’s eyes widen in bafflement. No one has ever addressed him with such a name before. It feels more intimate than Jaehyun’s warm hand on his waist.

“Just Doyoung is fine!” He quickly corrects the other prince, trying—and failing—to conceal his discomfort. Jaehyun’s small smile falls slightly, but he remains in place, his eyes meeting Doyoung’s firmly. “After all, we are to be married,” he justifies. “There should be no issue in us addressing each other casually.”

Jaehyun’s smile reappears. “Right, Doyoung.” His betrothed pronounces his name like a secret, shared only between the two of them. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me on a walk around the gardens.”

Doyoung looks up at him. “Right now?” The other man nods. “I— yes, of course,” he accepts, pleasantly surprised. He hadn’t been expecting Jaehyun to approach him privately so soon.

“Excellent,” Jaehyun answers, and Doyoung tries to ignore the knowing smirk on their instructor’s face.

“It’s a shame you haven’t seen these flowers in bloom before,” Jaehyun speaks gently as he walks beside Doyoung.

“The weather is punishing in the North,” Doyoung sighs. “Nothing this delicate could ever grow in such a ruthless place.” He caresses a pansy with careful touches.

“Delicate things are often fragile as well,” Jaehyun says a he rips a camellia out of its bush, but Doyoung doubts he’s talking about the flowers. “When you take them out of their safe space, they wither and break, like this flower.” He places it in Doyoung’s hand. “You, however, have only gotten stronger.”

Doyoung swallows loudly as he twists the flower in between his fingers. “I’m afraid you overestimate me, Jaehyun.” The Crown Prince’s name tastes warm and honeyed on his tongue. “I may be more resistant, but I, too, start to wither eventually.”

“Fortunately, these are winter flowers,” Jaehyun explains as he continues his walk. “They bloom when the air is coldest and harshest, against all odds.”

Doyoung chuckles softly. “Your analogies are _very_ elaborate.”

Jaehyun grins. “Don’t mock me. I was trained to be a King, not a poet.”

They walk in comfortable silence, but Doyoung can feel the hesitance with which Jaehyun carries himself around him. His long fingers toy with a petal nervously, ripping it into smaller pieces.

“Is it strange, marrying a man of the North?” Doyoung asks abruptly. It’s a question that had been nagging him for weeks now—how his husband-to-be felt about their cultural differences.

“It’s… not what I was prepared for,” Jaehyun admits, but he doesn’t sound bitter or regretful. “My whole life, I had been led to assume that I would marry some noblewoman, perhaps a cousin from the Middlelands, or the daughter of one of the more _generous_ dukes in the country. And suddenly, I get told that I have been arranged to marry a prince, and not just any prince, but a prince of the North, second in line to the Throne.” His eyes blatantly avoid Doyoung’s as he speaks. “To be honest, it’s taking all of my strength to interact with you as a betrothed, instead of as a fellow prince.”

Doyoung brings the flower up to his face and sniffs it curiously. “I’d say the flower metaphors were a very effective courting technique.”

The apples of Jaehyun’s cheeks turn a healthy shade of red, and his face twists into a sincere, satisfied smile. “I’m glad Taeyong suggested it, then.”

Doyoung’s blood turns cold at Jaehyun’s words, and he stops dead in his tracks. “Taeyong orchestrated this?”

The Crown Prince turns around at the sound of his betrothed’s accusatory tone. “Yes, why?”

Doyoung’s stare shifts into a hard, icy one. “I’m beginning to think Taeyong is the man I’m marrying,” he spits as he steps back, throwing the flower at Jaehyun’s feet.

“No, wait—Doyoung!” Jaehyun stretches out a hand to take hold of him, but Doyoung is already out of his reach.

♘

_My dearest Doyoung,_

_I cannot begin to express how proud your words made me feel. Watching you grow into the man you are destined to be fills me with an indescribable joy._

_From the moment you were born, and I held your tiny body in my arms, I could see you were different. I have always worried you would never find your place in this cruel world, filled with heartless, unforgiving people. I now see how wrong I was._

_You have no need to find a place, because no matter where you are or who you’re with, you will carve that place for yourself. And that, my dear brother, makes you stronger than any of us._

_Still, I feel compelled to ask you to let others inside that place of yours. I know you well, and I know how strong the walls around you are. You’ll find that allowing people to see your vulnerability is exhilarating, especially if they also share theirs with you._

_This uncompassionate cold has turned numbing without you, brother. I count down the days until your wedding like a high-strung child. I miss you, so much._

_I hope the Crown Prince is treating you with the respect and kindness that you deserve. (And, also, that he’s as gorgeous as the rumors say). I’m eager to hear more about this legendary prince._

_Loves you,_

_Gongmyung_

♘

“I’m sure it was nothing more than a misunderstanding,” Johnny argues as he shoves a pastry in his mouth.

Doyoung waits until the maid finishes serving their tea to continue with their conversation.

“It’s clear that he has no intentions of putting any effort into _this_ ,” he gestures at himself. “If he did, he wouldn’t be following his advisor’s ‘Guide to Courting’,” he speaks with mockery.

Johnny lets out a snort, his lips covered in sugar. “I think you might be overestimating the Crown Prince, Doyoung.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “Overestimating?” He lifts his head to look around the massive terrace they are sitting in, decorated with various sculptures and vases. “Do you see where we are?”

Johnny lets out a condescending sigh. “Having money and power doesn’t necessarily make you versed in the art of romance.” He grabs another pastry. “I believe,” he takes a bite of the pastry and swallows, “that the Crown Prince has no clue how to court you yet, or anyone, for that matter.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What difficulties could there possibly be in courting me? Successful or not, I will have to marry him in the end. All he has to do is not be a prick, and he’s already failing at that.”

“And you?” Johnny’s eyes pierce into the prince’s over the edge of his teacup. “Are you refraining from acting like a prick? Or are you, perhaps, being really unfair?”

Doyoung scowls, irritated by the truth in Johnny’s words. “You better show some respect before I have you executed,” he spits, prompting a loud laugh out of his personal guard.

“Your Highness,” a soft, familiar voice says behind them. Doyoung turns around to see Taeyong walking towards their table with gentle steps. He gives Doyoung a small, nervous smile. “May I have a word?”

Doyoung frowns slightly. “Uhm, yes, of course,” he says as he lays his teacup on its plate. “Is something the matter?”

Taeyong shakes his head quickly, his big, glossy eyes widening. “No, no! It’s nothing serious, Your Highness.”

Doyoung pushes himself up and squeezes Johnny’s shoulder as farewell. Taeyong bows at him as well, respectful as always, before taking off.

The young advisor leads Doyoung back into the Palace, guiding him into one of the many private courtyards.

“I wanted to apologize,” the advisor says once they’re in private.

Doyoung looks at him with shock. “Apologize? For what?”

Taeyong lowers his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have become involved in you and the Crown Prince’s relationship. I crossed a line.” He bows deeply before Doyoung, whose eyes widen in mortification.

“Please,” he pushes the advisor up by his shoulders. “There’s no need to apologize. You were simply doing your job.”

Taeyong straightens again, but the regret still clouds his eyes. They resume their walk in silence, but Doyoung can tell that the advisor is itching to continue their conversation, internally debating whether it’s appropriate or not.

“I worry about our Prince sometimes,” he finally says, voice soaked in concern. “He is, as most things in this Palace, beautifully delicate. Not necessarily weak, but delicate, no matter how hard he’s trained to mask it.” Doyoung hums to let the other know he is listening. “When he came to me asking for advice on how to court you, I couldn’t help but accept. I now realize it might have been a mistake. Perhaps he needs to learn these things on his own.”

Doyoung’s eyebrows shoot up, incredulous. “He asked you?”

Taeyong nods. “Right after your first meeting, I believe. I think he was… intimidated by you and your strength.” He chuckles lightly, covering his mouth with a bony hand. “I think everyone in this Palace is, to be honest.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Doyoung snorts, incredulous. However, Taeyong’s words quickly start to sink in, and Doyoung realizes he might have been guarding himself a little too aggressively, and a lot too unreasonably, considering how well everyone in the Palace has been treating him, gossip and rumors aside. “I— well,” he tries to speak, but Taeyong lays a comforting hand on his arm. His touch is more friendly than it is reverential, and Doyoung feels the ice inside him melt a little.

“Your Highness, it’s okay. We all have ways of protecting ourselves. Besides, it’s not like any of us are in a position to feel offended,” Taeyong shrugs with the carelessness of a man whose ego has been worn out by years of serving the Royal Family. “We are but your humble servants. His Royal Highness, though…” He grimaces in a way that tells Doyoung everything he needs to know. “Well, he has the pride of a Crown Prince, essentially.”

Doyoung pinches his nose in attempt to calm his headache. “Unbelievable. I’ve managed to get my betrothed to hate me after knowing him for a week. That must be a record.”

Taeyong shakes his head. “He doesn’t hate you. I’d say he’s intimidated by you, which is probably worse, because it irritates him.”

“You are not being of much help right now, my dearest advisor.”

Taeyong lets out a scandalized gasp. “Your Highness, I am _so_ —”

Doyoung laughs, throwing his head back. “I was joking!” He clarifies at the sight of Taeyong’s panicked face. “Don’t worry, it takes more than that to offend me. I’m from the North, remember? I have endurance.”

“I’m afraid my heart doesn’t, Your Highness,” Taeyong clutches his chest dramatically, causing Doyoung to snicker again.

In the background, the Cathedral’s bells ring with resonance, informing its people about the time. Doyoung counts five chimes, and he lets out a tired sigh.

“Come on, advisor,” he pats the shorter man’s shoulder before speeding up a bit, “You know I’d hate to miss my History and Tales of the South class.”

♘

“Your posture is too stiff!” Irene scoffs at the two of them, exasperated. “You’re dancing with your husband-to-be, not with your saggy grandmother!” She runs a hand through her long, wavy hair before clapping with so much force Doyoung worries her palms might bleed. “Again, from the top!”

The two princes start their dance again obediently. There’s a stinging pain in Doyoung’s back, and it’s sharp enough that it distracts him from the dance momentarily, making him lose his rhythm and almost trip on his own feet.

“Your fingers are digging into my back,” he tells Jaehyun through gritted teeth, refusing to look at him.

Jaehyun’s grip on his waist loosens, but the rest of his body remains tense. The muscles under Doyoung’s hand, on his shoulder, are as solid as the marble under their feet.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Irene interrupts their passive-aggressive waltz after what seems like an eternity. “There’s more to dance than technique,” she explains as the two men let go of each other. “Passion is key, and the passion here,” she gestures at the two of them, “is in all the wrong places.”

Doyoung catches Jaehyun’s blush from the corner of his eyes, and he hides his grin behind a scowl.

“I suggest you two find your misplaced passion before the Ball,” Irene gives them a funny look as she collects her equipment. “Otherwise the Queen will be very upset.”

Doyoung hears Jaehyun gulp loudly beside him. He doesn’t spare the Northern Prince a single glance as he changes back into his dress shoes and prepares to leave.

“Jaehyun, wait!” Doyoung calls after him as he wrestles with his left shoe, but the other prince doesn’t listen. It’s clear that he’s angry, _pissed_ at Doyoung for the baseless fit he threw the last time they saw each other. The combined humiliation of him admitting to needing help on this subject and then having it blow up in his face probably wounded his delicate ego more than he was willing to admit.

“Jaehyun!” Doyoung follows his betrothed out of the room and into the endless corridors. Jaehyun makes no sign of acknowledging him, and he continues to walk away.

Doyoung finally catches up with Jaehyun as they enter the gardens, which had already started to bloom with the oncoming presence of the spring. Winter is coming to an end soon, and so is their trial period.

“Jaehyun.” Doyoung wraps his hand around the other’s wrist, turning him around with a pull.

“What?” Jaehyun yanks his hand out of Doyoung’s grip with enough force to make the bushes around them rattle. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to apologize,” Doyoung explains, watching Jaehyun’s eyes squint in disbelief. “I shouldn’t have behaved the way I did the other day. I was being unfair, as well as rude.”

“Apologize?” Jaehyun laughs sarcastically, a sound sharp enough to make Doyoung’s insides twist in discomfort. It’s the laugh of a prepotent child, a spoiled brat. “Do you know what you did?” He walks up to Doyoung until they’re close enough to feel each other’s breaths, but Doyoung refuses to relent, holding the other man’s stare with equal intensity. “You disrespected a Crown Prince, a future king. I could have you exiled for that, or worse—hanged.”

Doyoung’s fists clench as he witnesses a new side of Jaehyun come out, one that he had unfortunately been expecting. Because a prince, no matter how disciplined, is still a prince, and there’s nothing a Crown Prince hates more than being put in his place.

“And you,” he spits back, “are disrespecting a Prince of the North, the oldest nation in our continent. Touching a single hair on my head would cause a war of magnitudes your clueless self couldn’t even begin to fathom.” Doyoung’s words work almost instantly, and he watches Jaehyun’s jaw clench with repressed rage.

“A pretty bold statement, especially considering your family sold you off to me just so their kingdom wouldn’t collapse financially,” Jaehyun bites back, and his words cut into Doyoung like a razor-sharp dagger.

However, he doesn’t get a chance to reply.

“Oh, no,” a high-pitched voice rings behind Doyoung. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not now, Hyuck,” Jaehyun growls at the boy, who ignores the prince’s implicit request to leave and walks up to them with playful skips.

“Hey, now,” Hyuck rests a hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Is that how you talk to a prince? I heard they don’t take well to disrespect around here.”

Doyoung’s eyebrows raise up. “You’re a prince?” He asks, skeptical.

Hyuck gives him a sinister smile. “Someone hasn’t been doing their homework! Jaehyun, will you please formally introduce me to your future husband?”

Jaehyun, who’s visibly fuming, lets out an angry huff. “Doyoung, this is my brother, Prince Donghyuck of the South, second in line to the Throne.”

Donghyuck gives him a devilish smirk. “I’m you, but charming.”

Doyoung gapes at him. “You’re Prince Donghyuck?! I didn’t expect you to be so _young_.” He’s heard about the second prince, of course, even before travelling to the South. Living under his older brother’s omnipresent shadow has granted the younger prince some anonymity, but Doyoung had still been expecting someone less… childlike.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s old,” Donghyuck replies, his wit sharp as a knife. “In any case, I’ll leave you two to your strangely aggressive sexual tension. I worry that if I stay here any longer, the buttons on my shirt will start to pop.”

“Donghyuck, shut _up_ ,” Jaehyun growls at his brother again, who remains unfazed as he waves them goodbye with mockery. The Crown Prince’s cheeks have started to redden again, and it makes him much less threatening than he had been just minutes ago.

“Do you have anything else to say?” Doyoung asks, but it sounds more like a demand, an open invitation to continue with their quarrel.

Jaehyun shakes his head. “We can’t settle this here,” he says, backing away from Doyoung. “I’ll meet you outside your door at the crack of dawn, tomorrow morning.”

“For what?!” Doyoung inquires, but once again, the Prince has run away.


	3. three

Doyoung doesn’t get a wink of sleep that night. He tosses and turns for hours, tormented by the Prince’s words and what he could be implying.

Doyoung is aware of the North’s financial situation. The punishing weather mixed with the exponential growth of the South for the past centuries resulted in a migratory phenomenon that has left the North underpopulated and indebted. With no manpower or natural resources to exploit, the North has weakened at an alarming rate, but the situation started getting critical right before Doyoung was born.

When he had agreed to this arrangement, he had known exactly why his parents were so adamant on him marrying into Southern royalty—it was the money.

However, that left him with an open question.

_Why has the South agreed to it, then?_

By the time he starts to doze off, the dark skies begin to lighten, and a multitude of warm orange tones emerge from the horizon. Doyoung curses out as he jumps out of bed, untangling himself from the sheets clumsily.

As he changes out of his bedwear and into something more appropriate, Doyoung realizes why Jaehyun had requested to meet him at such a strange hour. It's the changing of the guards, as well as the shift change for the servants. For a couple of minutes, the Palace corridors will be empty, and the two Princes can roam around without being seen or heard.

Doyoung opens his door with caution, trying not to make a sound. He peeks his head out and immediately spots Jaehyun, waiting for him as he had promised.

The Crown Prince is resting his back on the wide window built between the two rooms, in the middle of the corridor. His hair is down, and the brown strands cover his forehead freely. His face is bare, with none of the typical Southern cosmetics cover his skin. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his loose satin pants as he waits with a bored expression on his handsome face. It’s the first time Doyoung has ever seen his betrothed look so casual, and he can’t help but think it’s almost… _dainty_.

“You can come out,” Jaehyun says, voice deep and raspy because of the early hour. “There’s no one here.”

Doyoung walks out of his room, closing the door behind him softly as to not make any noise.

“So?” He asks as he approaches Jaehyun. “Why did you want me to meet you at this ungodly hour?”

Jaehyun pushes himself off the window before starting to walk away. “Follow me,” he speaks without sparing Doyoung a single glance. “And don’t make a sound.”

The Sparring Room is perhaps the least ostentatious room Doyoung has seen in this Palace. There’s no trace of the gold detailing or painted ceilings—instead, there are training dummies and shooting targets. A collection of different weapons hangs from the wall, some of which Doyoung recognizes as foreign, from outside of their continent.

“You…” Doyoung slowly processes the room around him. “You want us to spar?” He asks Jaehyun in disbelief.

Jaehyun walks towards the weapon wall with conviction. “There’s only one way to settle an argument between princes.”

Doyoung scoffs. “Yeah, but not between princes that are _engaged_!”

Jaehyun ignores Doyoung as he examines the swords before extending both hands and taking hold of one of the foreign ones. The blade is almost abnormally long and slightly curved, as well as single-edged. The handle—which is also elongated, compared to that of a traditional sword—is wrapped in braided bamboo wood. Doyoung identifies it quickly.

“That’s a sword from the Red Islands.”

Jaehyun smiles proudly, swinging and twisting his sword expertly. “Correct. This one in particular is called ‘katana’. It was a gift from a dear friend of mine.” He raises the sword to point at the other weapons. “Your turn. Pick one.”

Doyoung approaches the wall with wary steps. The absurd number of blades displayed is intimidating enough, but the fact that he is sparring against one he has never even seen in the flesh before makes his choice all the more crucial. If he picks one he is comfortable with, but that is at a disadvantage against Jaehyun’s katana, he will have to make up for it with his technique. And if he picks one he’s less familiar with but that’s more suitable to clash against Jaehyun’s sword, his lack of knowledge and training might prove fatal.

And then, he finds the perfect weapon. His eyes fall on a tall spear, black and sturdy. The shaft appears resistant enough, and when Doyoung holds it in his hands, it proves to be comfortable and easy to handle as well. The blade, although not as longs as that of the katana, is considerably long for a spear, and it also curves slightly. It’s exactly what Doyoung needs.

“Excellent choice,” Jaehyun whistles, genuinely surprised. “That’s a ‘naginata’, also from the Red Islands.” He tilts his head as he watches Doyoung test the weapon, swinging it a couple of times. “It suits you,” he comments out of nowhere, blushing immediately after at his own words.

“Let’s get to it then,” Doyoung sighs as he steps into his position, in front of Jaehyun. He doesn’t want to indulge the Crown Prince’s childish fantasies for longer than strictly necessary.

“Right,” Jaehyun agrees, positioning himself as well.

For a few seconds neither of them moves. Their weapons are raised, muscles tense and ready to counterattack. The room is so silent their breaths can be heard.

And then Jaehyun strikes.

The Crown Prince’s style is fast paced and sharp, less brutal than Doyoung had been expecting. He uses his sword with swift swings and gives Doyoung almost no time to react between attacks.

The Prince of the North, however, is nothing if not resistant. His weapon is light and easy to wield, and counter attacking his betrothed’s assaults becomes a simple task, primarily because the Crown Prince is _too predictable_.

After having one of his attacks deflected by a twist of Doyoung’s blade, the Crown Prince loses his balance, and the Northern prince takes that moment of weakness to his advantage, swinging again. His spear cuts through the fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt, leaving behind a big gash and ruining what must have been a very expensive shirt. It soon proves to be a mistake, one that Doyoung should have already learnt, because if there’s anything that inflames Jaehyun, it’s humiliation.

Enraged, Jaehyun holds his sword with both hands before charging at Doyoung. Somehow, he manages to deflect the first two attacks, but the Crown Prince is too fast. In an attempt to protect himself from certain death, Doyoung raises the shaft up to his face and closes his eyes, bracing himself for impact. The edge of Jaehyun’s blade clashes against the wood with merciless force, and Doyoung hears a loud crack.

He opens his eyes. His spear has split in two.

Jaehyun backs away, breathing heavily, and he drops his sword to the floor with a loud clatter so he can rest both of his hands on his knees.

“Well, I guess that settles it,” Jaehyun says in between breaths.

Doyoung throws the remnants of the spear in Jaehyun’s direction. “Was proving your point worth the destruction of a perfectly functional weapon?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes as he walks up to Doyoung. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t have fun.”

Doyoung frowns, but he remains silent.

“Exactly,” Jaehyun smirks at him, and he looks so handsome that Doyoung wants to attack him again. Jaehyun’s dark brown hair sticks to his forehead, and his face and neck glisten with sweat. He should look disgusting, and yet…

Doyoung shakes his head. “Whether or not I had fun is irrelevant. I don’t see why you had to destroy my weapon, not to mention how reckless that move was. You could have killed me.”

“I knew what I was doing,” Jaehyun replies, sure of himself. Doyoung catches a glimpse of his toned abdomen through the rip in his shirt, and swallows loudly. “And don’t worry about the naginata, I’ll ask Yuta to bring me another one. He’s coming to the Ball all the same.”

Doyoung crosses his arms and lets out an annoyed puff. “So, are you satisfied now? Can we go back to dancing and walking through gardens like civilized people?”

Jaehyun laughs energetically. The Crown Prince has dimples on his cheeks, Doyoung notices, but he doesn’t know what to do with that information. “Somehow,” he starts to say, still smiling, “I don’t think that would do us any good, Doyoung.”

“Are you saying you’d rather smash my head in with a sword than walk through a garden with me?”

“I’m saying that this was the first time we genuinely had fun with each other,” Jaehyun explains, and Doyoung hates that he’s right. He hates that the first time he enjoyed his time with his husband-to-be was when they were swinging blades at each other, he hates how stupidly attractive Jaehyun looks right now, and, mostly, he hates how much he’s looking forward to the next round.

“So?” Jaehyun rises a defiant eyebrow at him. “When’s the next duel?”

♘

Doyoung doesn’t know how or when, but their sparring sessions become a common occurrence. In public, they dance; in private, they clash.

Jaehyun plans most of them. Since their schedules are so busy, especially as the night of the Spring Equinox Ball approaches, they barely see each other during the day. So, they come up with their own coded language.

Every night, Jaehyun hands the men guarding Doyoung’s door a note, which they no doubt assume is nothing but a courting ritual. However, only Doyoung understands what they really mean. If Jaehyun wishes him a “Goodnight”, then he’ll be waiting for Doyoung at dawn; if he tells him to “Sleep well”, then it means he’s too busy to meet Doyoung the next morning.

It’s a strange arrangement, but it’s one that makes the Northern Prince more excited to live than he’s been in months. If Johnny or Taeyong notice any of his bandages or the bags under his eyes, neither mention it.

♘

“I can’t believe my eyes!” Irene claps excitedly as Doyoung and Jaehyun part, bowing to each other after they finish their dance. “That was perfect!”

Doyoung smiles proudly. Releasing their frustrations in the Sparring Room had allowed them to establish some sort of synergy in the Ball Room, and their steps had become nothing if not coordinated.

Jaehyun gives their instructor a kind smile. Right now, he is Jaehyun the Crown Prince, not Jaehyun the impulsive angry brat, and for some inexplicable reason, Doyoung likes the second version much better. “Thank you very much, Lady Irene. I hope we will make you proud.”

“I know you will,” she replies. “You’re both very hardworking boys. But I still can’t believe you improved so greatly in just a couple of weeks…”

“Your Highness!” The doors snap open, and Taeyong’s panicked self comes in, panting.

“Yes?” Both Doyoung and Jaehyun reply at the same time.

Taeyong’s eyes land on Doyoung. “Your Highness, uhm, Doyoung,” he says, prompting a snicker out of Jaehyun.

“Is something the matter?” Doyoung asks.

Taeyong grimaces, as if he couldn’t decide the answer to that question. “The Queen has requested an audience with you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry, what?! Right now?”

Taeyong nods.

“When the Queen requests something, she demands it,” Jaehyun explains as he walks to stand beside Doyoung. “You best go now.”

Taeyong gives Jaehyun a thankful glance. “She’s waiting for you, Your Highness.”

Doyoung looks at his betrothed. The thought of meeting the Queen of the Southern Kingdom is intimidating enough, but the thought of meeting his future mother-in-law is downright terrifying. Jaehyun gives him a confident look, and his eyes glint with a mixture of princely kindness and boyish spark—it’s the most honest look he’s ever given Doyoung.

“Your Highness, we must go,” Taeyong insists.

Doyoung nods, but his eyes are still on Jaehyun. “Yes, let’s.”

The Queen of the South waits for Doyoung in her own personal garden. She’s sitting at a glass table, sipping tea elegantly, surrounded by heavily armed guards.

Taeyong leads him to the table, and the Queen flashes them both a blinding smile the moment she spots them. She’s just as beautiful as her son, in that pure and inartificial way representative of the Middlelands. Doyoung instantly sees Jaehyun in her smile, as well as in the fire that she conceals behind her regal stare.

“Finally,” is the first thing Doyoung hears her say.

“Her Majesty, Queen Yuna of the South,” Taeyong introduces her with a shaky voice.

“I had been dying to meet you, Prince Doyoung of the North,” she says as she invites him to take a seat in front of her with a hand gesture. “Taeyong, dear, you are dismissed.”

Taeyong bows deeply before running away.

“So,” she speaks as she pours Doyoung a cup of tea. Only then does he notice the lack of servants around them, something that reminds him of his own experience with the overbearing maids. “You are to marry my son.”

Doyoung gulps. “I am, Your Majesty.”

“I must admit, at first I thought your cultural differences might prove too troubling, but I’ve heard you two get along better than you let others know.”

Doyoung’s heart falls out of his chest. He gapes at the Queen, mortified. “Your Majesty, I’m—”

“Please, son,” she waves a hand in front of him. “I’m not here to punish you. You did nothing wrong.” Doyoung’s bloodstream starts to flow again. “Chastising you for bonding with your betrothed in private? Absurd.”

Doyoung clenches his fists in his lap, nervous. “But, Your Majesty, there’s protocol—”

“Are you marrying the protocol or the Prince?” She interrupts Doyoung. He remains silent. “That’s what I thought,” she says with a cheeky smile. “You know, my son has never been one to break any rules or disobey. The fact that you’ve started to bring out that side of him is… comforting.”

“Your Majesty?” Doyoung frowns, perplexed.

“I worry about him, like any mother would. Unfortunately, he was never only my son, but a Crown Prince as well. He carries a heavy title, and it has been burdening him since he has been old enough to understand what it means. Yet, somehow, you make him forget.”

Doyoung simply nods, at a loss for words. He hadn’t realized how much Jaehyun’s actions really meant, both at a personal and an official level. In one way or another, Doyoung has ignited something inside the perfect prince. He feels himself blushing.

“From now on,” the Queen starts to say, “the Change of Guard in your floor will take a bit longer than usual. The Guards have become clumsy, you see,” she winks at Doyoung. “I hope no one takes advantage of this short moment of weakness.”

Doyoung gapes at her. “Y-Your Majesty, thank you…”

“For what?” She gives him a knowing smile. “I had nothing to do with the Guards’ clumsiness.” The Queen pours herself some more tea. “You may leave now, before your poor heart gives up.”

Doyoung scrambles to his feet before bowing deeply, bending at the waist. “Thank you so much, Your Majesty,” he thanks her again.

“Go, now,” The Queen of the South grins at him. “Prove yourself worthy of my gifts.”

♘

“Are you nervous?” Taeyong asks the Northern prince, days later.

“Not at all,” Doyoung jokes, sarcastic. “After all, I’m only going to be introduced to the entire Southern Court as their future Prince consort.”

Taeyong chuckles as he plucks a green leaf out of its bush. Lately, the line of hierarchy that divides them has become blurry enough that Doyoung feels comfortable calling Taeyong his friend. When he asked Doyoung to accompany him on a walk through the Gardens, the Prince was more than happy to oblige.

“Look at the flowers,” Taeyong points to the rows and rows of bushes before them, which are slowly starting to blossom. “Winter is finally coming to an end.”

“The Equinox is next week,” Doyoung says, eyes unfocused.

“It’ll all be over before you know it,” Taeyong tries to comfort him. “Besides, you have nothing to worry about. All of your instructors are more than pleased with the progress you’ve made, and Queen Yuna likes you. What the Court thinks will be irrelevant as long as you have her on your side.” He snatches another leaf. “As for the Prince… Well, he’s always been a very private person.”

“Has he not said a word to you?” Doyoung inquires, genuinely surprised. From what he’s heard from both Taeyong and Jaehyun, he’s always assumed the two of them are close.

“About you?” The advisor asks and Doyoung nods. “Nothing conclusive, I’m afraid. He said that you were prettier than he was expecting you to be, but that was months ago.”

Doyoung turns his head to hide his reddened cheeks. “Ah, yes, that Southern superficiality.”

Taeyong snickers. “I doubt that’s the case,” he says, as if he knew something Doyoung didn’t. Doyoung elbows him, terribly curious about what the advisor could be talking about. Taeyong takes a deep breath before talking. “Our Prince has never shown much interest in these things.”

Doyoung raises a confused eyebrow. “What things?”

“You know,” Taeyong tilts his head. “Romance things.”

“He’s never courted anyone before?” Taeyong shakes his head, and Doyoung’s eyes widen, incredulous.

“You will be his first, well, _everything_.” He grimaces slightly. “Please, don’t let him know I told you.”

Doyoung squeezes his friend’s shoulder. “I won’t, don’t worry. It only caught me by surprise since he’s so _popular_.”

“Oh, just because he hasn’t shown any interest doesn’t mean others haven’t chased after him,” Taeyong tells him. “The Imperial Prince of the Red Islands was particularly insistent, but he had to settle with showering Jaehyun with gifts and admiring him from afar before he caused a political conflict.”

Doyoung lets out a heavy, exhausted sigh. “Everything is so complicated.” He hadn’t been expecting this piece of information, and it seemed like another responsibility he would have to deal with after his marriage. Having to teach his betrothed these _things_ wasn’t in his plans when he agreed to marry him.

“It won’t be,” Taeyong assures him. His eyes are full of conviction, so much so that Doyoung almost believes him. “And if they were to become complicated, I will be there for the both of you. After all, it’s my job.”

Doyoung rubs his neck, which is so contracted from stress that the pain keeps him up at night sometimes.

“There’s no point in worrying about these things right now, Your Hi—Doyoung,” Taeyong corrects himself quickly. “For now, let’s focus on the Ball, and on how jaw droppingly gorgeous you and Jaehyun will look next to each other. The noblemen and women won’t have any choice but to fall in love with you.”

Doyoung can’t help but smile at the advisor’s words. “I hope you’re right.”

Taeyong winks at him. “I always am.”

♘

“You’re out of it today,” Jaehyun reprimands Doyoung as the Northern Prince wipes the sweat off of his forehead with a shaky hand.

Doyoung scowls at him. “Can you blame me?” He grips his spear a little firmer. “I can’t believe you called me here the day before the Ball.” Doyoung swings at the Crown Prince.

Jaehyun dodges Doyoung’s blade easily. The Northern Prince’s movements are clumsy and slow-paced—his mind is elsewhere, and his body is exhausted from the stress and anxiety.

“I did you a favor,” Jaehyun retorts as he walks in circles around Doyoung. His strategy today is mostly defensive, and Doyoung hates the idea of the bratty prince going easy on him on purpose. “You need something to help you clear your mind, focus on nothing but the present.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Doyoung scoffs as he strikes and misses again. “The Court loves you.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “What? You think that these people don’t judge me? That they don’t want something from me?” He continues to circle around Doyoung. “They’ll love me as long as I keep them happy and satisfied.”

“And you think marrying me will fit that criteria?”

Jaehyun tilts his head. “I suppose we’ll find out soon. The Ball is just as important for me as it is for you, Doyoung. We’re both being trialed here.”

“So, if we give them what they want, they’ll be happy?” Doyoung lowers his weapon as he pauses to think.

“Exactly,” Jaehyun simply replies.

“And what does the Court of the South want?” Doyoung stays still as Jaehyun keeps walking around him in circles, sword in hand.

“Drama, mostly. Entertainment. And there’s nothing more entertaining than an heir to the Throne’s wedding. Trust me, they’ll be pleased.”

Doyoung’s shoulders sag in relief.

“But if there’s something my experience in the Court has taught me,” Jaehyun speaks from behind Doyoung, “is that they’ll take any and every opportunity to stab you in the back.”

Doyoung’s brain quickly translates the Crown Prince’s words, but his body is not fast enough. Before he can even finish turning around, Jaehyun is already on him, pushing him to the ground. The end of his sword meets Doyoung’s throat, sharp enough to hurt but light enough to not draw blood.

“What is wrong with you?!” Doyoung screams as soon as he recovers from the shock. “You can’t bruise me before the Ball!”

Jaehyun stares at him in silence, sword still raised. His eyes are trained on Doyoung’s face, his chest heaving despite the fact that he hadn’t made any physical efforts during their entire session.

“What is it?” Doyoung hisses at the other prince above him after he gets no answer.

Jaehyun finally lowers his sword, placing it beside Doyoung on the floor.

“You have beautiful eyes,” he whispers as if in a trance. And then, he bends down.

Jaehyun’s lips meet Doyoung’s in a shy, inexperienced kiss. The Crown Prince brushes his mouth against his betrothed’s softly and with care—it’s nothing more than a press of lips, a chaste peck.

Doyoung remains immobile as he lets Jaehyun kiss him. The other man’s lips are soft and plump on his thinner ones, and Doyoung can tell they’ve never been kissed before.

Jaehyun pulls away after a short while, and his breath mingles with Doyoung’s as he pushes himself off of the Prince of the North, rising to his full height in a swift jump.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, eyes blown wide—as if he couldn’t believe what he had done.

“I-It’s okay,” Doyoung replies as he sits up with slow, tentative movements.

Jaehyun gives him one last panicked look before running out of the room, leaving Doyoung behind, alone.

♘

_My dearest brother,_

_This time, I’m asking you for advice explicitly._

_The process of being courted by the Crown Prince has become an interesting one, especially after I discovered that I was his first, well, everything._

_Prince Jaehyun is much more passionate and sensitive than he lets anyone think, which makes him an excellent, empathetic leader… But it also makes him a whimsical brat._

_Today, he stole a kiss and then ran away like a coward. I’m starting to believe that maybe I made a mistake by allowing him to lead, that maybe I should be the one courting him and gifting him flowers and stealing kisses from him. He tries to hide it, but I can see that he is soft and delicate and gentle, and I can feel his desire to be lead, dormant under his skin, after years of being forced to lead. However, I fear that taking away this power from him might offend him or even damage his pride and heart._

_So, my much more experienced brother, should I? Should I take the reins from the Crown Prince’s hands and risk hurting him and our still precarious relationship? Or should I leave things as they are and continue to watch him stumble and hurt his own pride?_

_I hope you can help me._

_Loves you,_

_Doyoung_

♘

“Doyoung! Wake up!” A booming voice startles the Prince out of his slumber. He sits up with a jump, disoriented. “You fell asleep on your desk, idiot,” Johnny—Doyoung identifies the tall, imposing shadow hovering above him quickly—tells him, characteristically sassy. His guard is dressed in a uniform Doyoung has never seen before. It’s clear blue with silver details, and made with a strong, expensive fabric. It’s far more formal and elegant than anything he’s seen Johnny wear before. And then Doyoung remembers.

The Spring Equinox Ball is today.

“Oh, hell,” Doyoung curses as he stands up, hitting his knee on one of the desk legs. “Shit.”

“You better wash your mouth with soap before you walk into the Ballroom, Your Highness,” Taeyong says as he steps into the room, followed by a bunch of maids who are carrying what Doyoung assumes are his garments for the night. “And your face, too,” the advisor sighs as he catches sight of the big ink stain imprinted on Doyoung’s cheek.

The maids drag Doyoung into the bathroom and wash him thoroughly, until his skin turns red from the insistent scrubbing. Once they deem him clean, Doyoung is thrown into his dressing table, where he’s immediately surrounded by barbers and cosmetologists who start arguing about which colors would suit him most.

“What time is it?” Doyoung asks Taeyong, who’s busy screaming at the maids for picking the wrong shirt. “Isn’t the Ball in the evening?”

“Doyoung, you slept through the entire day,” Johnny explains with a playful smirk. “I wonder why you were so exhausted.”

Doyoung shoots him a dirty look before he’s forced to close his eyes so the cosmetologist can start doing his job.

“How’s Jaehyun?” He asks after a few minutes of silence, once Taeyong has stopped yelling.

“In a similar situation,” Taeyong replies, moving to stand beside Doyoung. “Although he didn’t utter a word for the entire morning,” he tells Doyoung. “He goes silent when he’s nervous.”

Doyoung gulps. “You think he’s nervous?”

“More than I have ever seen him.”

Doyoung doesn’t get a chance to continue prodding, because the maids return with the right shirt and Taeyong steps back so the Prince can be shoved into his suit. It’s a soft aqua green color, and the long, silk gabardine pools at his feet.

“Your Highness,” the barber calls his attention, “we recovered this from your luggage, and I thought it would be a nice addition to your costume.”

Doyoung looks at the shiny object in the man’s hands. It’s a head accessory, a silver chain that goes around his head and falls on the side of his face, tucked behind his ear. Doyoung instantly recognizes it—it’s a family relic, a traditional accessory worn by Northern Royalty for generations.

“Oh,” Doyoung says as the man wraps the chain around his head, adjusting it perfectly.

“You look stunning,” Taeyong gives him a sentimental smile. “The Court of the South doesn’t stand a chance.”

Doyoung laughs nervously. “We can only hope.”

Not long after his preparations are finished, Doyoung is escorted to the East Wing, where the Ballroom is situated. The hallways are filled with guards, more than Doyoung has ever seen inside the Palace, or anywhere for that matter. There probably isn’t a safer place on the continent right now, and yet Doyoung can’t help but feel on edge.

They find Jaehyun and his guards waiting in front of the massive doors that Doyoung assumes lead into the Ball Room. The Crown Prince is wearing a lilac suit, made with the same fabric as Doyoung’s, but tailored to fit him tighter. His hair is styled up—like it always is for official affairs—, and his lips are slightly tinted in a cherry shade. He is also wearing a traditional accessory—a thick, golden necklace from which various precious gems of different colors hang; almost the exact opposite to Doyoung’s silver chain.

“My prince,” Jaehyun greets Doyoung formally before extending an arm for Doyoung to wrap his hand around.

“Your Highness,” Doyoung nods as he links his arm with Jaehyun’s. “Are we the only ones left?”

“As planned, yes,” Taeyong quickly answers, running to stand in front of the two princes so he can fix both of their clothes one last time. “This is your grand entrance. You will be introduced as the Crown Prince's betrothed.” Doyoung gulps. “It’ll be okay, Your Highness. Jaehyun will be by your side for the entire evening.”

Jaehyun barely spares the Northern prince a glance.

“Right,” Doyoung says, taking deep breaths as he prepares himself for the most difficult evening of his life. He can do this on his own. After all, he’s more than used to facing his fears completely alone.

“You two look impossibly good together,” Taeyong sighs dreamily as he steps aside, and Doyoung notices Jaehyun’s ears turn red from the corner of his eyes. “It’s time,” the advisor announces as the guards push the doors open.

There’s music playing. It’s a beautiful tune, but void of any meaning or emotion, meant to be nothing more than background noise.

Doyoung tries not to look at the crowd under them, who are waiting for the Crown Prince and his special guest to finally make their entrance. The entire room falls silent as the page holding the guest list unrolls his parchment, as if he doesn’t know exactly who they are.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Jaehyun of the South, and his betrothed, Prince Doyoung of the North.”

The crowd let out a loud, collective gasp, and Doyoung can hear them start to gossip obnoxiously as him and Jaehyun walk down the marble staircase. He holds the front of his robe with a sweaty hand.

“Relax,” Jaehyun whispers to him discreetly. “They can smell fear. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

Doyoung immediately straightens. Jaehyun is right, as much as Doyoung hates to admit it, and he’ll cut off his hand before he lets any of these snakes win.

The crowd gathers in a ring as the princes reach the bottom of the staircase, and Jaehyun takes Doyoung’s hand in his, leading him to the center of the circle. The Court watch expectantly as Jaehyun and Doyoung bow before wrapping their arms around each other. The orchestra start playing their tune, and the princes begin their dance with confident, practiced steps. Their bodies follow the melody almost automatically, and Doyoung finds himself giving up control, instead letting his instinct take over. It’s not intricate, nothing more than muscle memory, but it’s still freeing, almost enjoyable.

It doesn’t take long before the men and women of the Court join them in their waltz. Soon, the Ballroom is filled with dancing couples, and Doyoung feels himself relax as the nobles’ attention deviates from the two princes, who somehow manage to get lost in the crowd. No one pays them any mind as they all finish their dance, too focused on their own personal affairs.

“I told you,” Jaehyun says without looking at Doyoung. “If you don’t let them toy with you, they forget you and move on to the next target. Like a petulant child.”

“This is all a game to them,” Doyoung replies, and Jaehyun nods silently.

The orchestra end their performance, and the crowd dissipates as they all stop their dancing to clap enthusiastically. _The Court is pleased_ , Doyoung realizes. He passed the test.

Jaehyun detangles himself from Doyoung and steps back slightly before he brings Doyoung’s hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss on the Northern Prince’s knuckles. Jaehyun’s eyes meet Doyoung’s as he straightens up, and they both turn red instantly.

“I— Uhm,” Jaehyun stutters, unsure of what to say.

“Well, if it isn’t the loveliest prince in the entire continent,” a snarky voice Doyoung has never heard before says. “And Jaehyun is also here.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes at the handsome man who approached them, but there’s no trace of offense in his face. “I was wondering how long it would take you.” He hugs the young man tightly, a somewhat inappropriate gesture in such an event, but one that is forgiven when you’re the Crown Prince. “Prince Doyoung, this is my dear friend, Yuta of the Nakamoto dynasty, Imperial Prince of the Red Islands.”

Prince Yuta flashes Doyoung a sharp, arrogant smirk. He’s beautiful in an almost threatening way, like the most poisonous flowers can be, and he carries an invisible but _loud_ warning sign over his head. Yuta is as enticing as he is menacing, and Doyoung is drawn to him as much as he is repelled.

“My prince,” Yuta mimics Jaehyun’s gesture from earlier, kissing the back of Doyoung’s hand softly.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow and stares at Jaehyun, who has the decency to look irritated. “Your Highness,” he greets the Imperial Prince with a dry tone.

“I’m delighted to see that Jaehyun has finally met his match in regards to his beauty. Otherwise we would have had to marry Taeyong,” Yuta chuckles with malice.

“Forgive Yuta’s indiscretion,” Jaehyun quickly cuts in. His ears have turned an alarming shade of red. “Imperial customs differ a lot from ours.”

“I imagine Imperial totalitarianism has its effects on people,” Doyoung retorts, acute.

Yuta scoffs. “Because a hereditary monarchy is so democratic.” He rolls his eyes, as if he were more than used to this argument. “In any case, I didn’t travel all the way to the South to partake in a political debate. I’m here to celebrate that my dearest friend is finally losing his innocence.”

“Yuta!” Jaehyun yells at him, scandalized.

“I’m joking!” Yuta assures his friend, but Doyoung doesn’t miss the wink directed at him.

“Now, now, don’t cause a ruckus on such an important evening,” a female voice interrupts their bickering. Doyoung swiftly steps aside as Queen Yuna joins their small group, which earns him a kind smile from the monarch.

Yuta’s smirk falls off of his handsome face, and he bends almost painfully fast to bow in front of the Queen of the South. “Your Majesty, I’m terribly sorry.”

She gives him a knowing look. “I’m certain you are, Prince Yuta. You may leave now,” she says without sparing him a second glance, to which Yuta hurriedly obeys. The Queen’s gaze finally lands on her son, and her eyes melt as she raises a hand to caress the young man’s cheek. “My son, don’t you look lovely today?”

Jaehyun smiles at her, brighter than Doyoung has ever seen him before. “Thank you, mother. You look splendid as well.”

The Queen squeezes her son’s cheek one last time before turning to look at Doyoung. “And my dearest Doyoung. I was very pleased to see how proudly you stood in front of these vultures.” She pats his cheek as well, a gesture that makes Doyoung’s insides warm. “You, too, look exquisite tonight. Especially when you stand next to my son,” the Queen declares, taking Jaehyun’s hand and linking it with Doyoung’s with a smart smile.

“Mother…”

A loud, banging noise resonates through the entire room, and the Queen lets out a tired sigh.

“I’m afraid I must take my leave now. I heard your brother has already set up camp next to the beverages,” she bids the two princes farewell with a small wave, leaving them to stand in the middle of the room, their hands entwined, and their mouths sewn shut.

Jaehyun retracts his hand as soon as he becomes aware of their position, acting as if Doyoung’s touch had stung him.

“Jaehyun—” Doyoung tries to call his attention, but the Crown Prince refuses to listen.

“I need some fresh air,” Jaehyun chokes out, looking genuinely suffocated, and he turns on his heels before darting away.

“Prince Jaehyun!” Doyoung shouts at him, taking hold of his long garments so he can run after the runaway prince. He bumps into a woman with an obnoxiously puffy skirt who gives him a nasty look, but Doyoung wastes no time on her. Jaehyun’s long legs are fast, and his determination to run away from Doyoung makes him even faster. However, his target is blatantly obvious—the big glass doors on the corner of the room that lead into the Gardens.

A few noblemen and women turn around to look at the two princes, and Doyoung is sure they’ll have enough gossip to last a month. At least that will keep them entertained.

The air outside is fresh with the promise of Spring as Doyoung follows Jaehyun outside and into the Gardens. A long run through the massive, endless portico is enough to wear Doyoung’s patience thin, and he lets out a loud groan of frustration.

“You’re a coward!” He screams as his legs finally give up, and he rests his weight on the stone wall.

Jaehyun halts as well, and he turns his head around to make sure Doyoung is still behind him. Once he catches sight of Doyoung’s exhausted form, he curses under his breath and jogs back to where the Northern Prince is resting while he tries to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” He asks, genuine concern in his voice.

“Now you care?!” Doyoung hisses at him. “Now that you’ve thrown your little fit and you’ve gotten me to run after you, you care?”

Jaehyun pales at Doyoung’s words, ashamed. “That was… childish of me. I apologize, but—”

“But what?” Doyoung exhales as he slowly recovers from the strain. “What’s your excuse? You embarrassed both of us in front of the entire Southern Court!”

Jaehyun rubs his forehead. “What do you want me to say, Doyoung? I’m a human being, like the rest of them are! I have feelings as well.”

Doyoung squints his eyes. “For someone with such intense feelings, you sure are terrible at voicing them.”

The Crown Prince scowls at him, and he averts Doyoung’s eyes as he remains completely silent.

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung calls his betrothed, moving to stand in front of him. “Jaehyun of the Jeong Dynasty, Crown Prince of the South, why did you kiss me?”

Jaehyun finally lifts his gaze. Under the moonlight, his ivory skin has turned a silvery shade, and his pitch-black eyes shine with built-up emotion. Jaehyun looks like the very definition of raw beauty as he holds Doyoung’s stare with unrelenting passion. It’s the most beautiful he’s ever looked.

Doyoung watches as Jaehyun’s face softens with defeat, and he licks his lips before speaking. “Because I wanted to,” he admits, looking straight into Doyoung’s eyes.

Doyoung lets out a tired laugh. “Then you should have just said so,” he affirms, before shoving Jaehyun against the wall and smashing their lips together.

The Crown Prince lets out a little gasp of surprise, but he soon melts into Doyoung’s embrace, wrapping his arms around the other prince’s neck. Doyoung forces his tongue into Jaehyun’s mouth, who complies happily, sighing into the kiss in a way that makes Doyoung’s blood boil in all the right places. His grip on Jaehyun’s waist tightens, and he nips at his bottom lip until the Crown Prince lets out an impatient whine, chasing Doyoung’s mouth desperately. The Northern prince pulls away with one final peck before he lowers his head and presses a tentative kiss on Jaehyun’s neck. Jaehyun immediately turns his head to the side, exposing his neck to Doyoung, who chuckles, amused. He licks and nips and bites Jaehyun’s neck, covering it in dark marks. Doyoung’s insistent desire is fueled by Jaehyun’s response—he gasps and moans faintly as he runs his fingers through Doyoung’s hair.

“Oops,” an indecently inebriated voice pops their bubble. Doyoung pulls off of Jaehyun to stare at Donghyuck’s intoxicated stumbling. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he apologizes with a tinge of sarcasm, insolent even when he is on the brink of toxic shock. “Oh, fuck,” Donghyuck whimpers before barfing all over the wall and himself.

“Fucking idiot!” Jaehyun berates the younger prince, pushing Doyoung off and running towards Donghyuck, who is threatening to black out at any moment. “Reckless, irresponsible devil,” Jaehyun continues, but the worry is still evident in his eyes as he wraps one arm around his brother’s shoulders and slides the other one under his knees before lifting him off the ground. “Help me carry him to my room,” he pleads, looking at Doyoung with those bottomless eyes of his. “We can’t risk anyone seeing him like this.”

Doyoung shakes himself out of the stupor. “Yes, of course,” he places a worried hand on top of the young prince’s curls. “Let’s go.”

The Palace’s halls are essentially empty, since most guards have been relocated around the Ballroom. If anyone notices the three princes, no one says a word.

Doyoung helps Jaehyun carry the boy up the stairs of the West wing, which have never seemed more endless. Donghyuck has a slim build, but his body feels as heavy as a rock as the older princes haul him through the corridors.

“What if there are guards at your door?” Doyoung suddenly realizes.

Jaehyun shakes his head. His forehead is covered in a thin layer of sweat. “Don’t worry, they won’t tell a soul.” He takes his brother in his arms again once they reach their floor. “It’s not like this is a rare occurrence.”

As Jaehyun predicted, the two guards shielding his bedroom remain stoic as they watch the three princes approach them, pushing the doors open silently. Doyoung nods, grateful, before following Jaehyun inside.

The Crown Prince’s room is slightly bigger than Doyoung’s, but smaller than he had been expecting. The furniture display mirrors that of Doyoung’s chamber, and there is also a small door in the corner, which he assumes leads to the bathroom. The only difference Doyoung can find upon his first inspection is the massive balcony on the side of the room.

Jaehyun lays his brother on the bed with gentle hands and he pushes the boy’s fringe out of his eyes. “Can you watch him in case he vomits again?” He asks Doyoung. “I’m going to get a wet cloth.”

Doyoung strides over to the bed, where Donghyuck lies, half-unconscious. He rubs the young prince’s head in calming motions while Jaehyun disappears into the bathroom. The Crown Prince comes back a few seconds later with a damp rag in his hands, which he uses to wipe his brother’s face clean.

“So irresponsible,” Jaehyun mumbles. His words contradict his loving touches. “On the most important night of the season…”

“It’s okay, Jaehyun,” Doyoung tries to calm him down. “No one saw him, and the evening went as planned.”

Jaehyun lets out a dignified huff, but he doesn’t say anything else. Once Donghyuck’s face is clean enough, the two older princes rid him of his stained clothes, leaving him in nothing but his undergarments. Without all those layers of lavish clothing, Donghyuck looks like nothing more than a boy who’s slowly growing into a young man, and Doyoung can’t help but pat his knee endearingly.

“I guess I better leave you to rest as well,” Doyoung exhales. He’s also exhausted—too much has happened in a single evening for him to withstand for much longer; he yearns for the comfort of his expensive bed.

“Wait, Doyoung,” Jaehyun stops him with a hand around his wrist. “About earlier…”

“Yes?” Doyoung urges Jaehyun to continue once he realizes that the Crown Prince has trailed off.

“I—” He swallows loudly. The tips of his ears have turned bright red again. “It was… It doesn’t matter.”

Doyoung scowls. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

Jaehyun rubs his face. He looks older than he ever has in Doyoung’s eyes. “It’s not the right time for this.”

Doyoung laughs sarcastically, but it comes out more hurt than bitter. “ _Not the right time_? Jaehyun, we are to be married within the year.”

Jaehyun sighs. “Exactly. We should wait until we are married.”

“Jaehyun, it was nothing but a kiss—”

“It’s our duty to be responsible, Doyoung.”

Doyoung has heard enough. “You know what? Maybe you should be marrying your fucking duty instead of me.” He storms out of the room before the Crown Prince can say anything else or worse. Jaehyun doesn’t move or say a word, and Doyoung knows the argument is over. Neither of them has anything to add.

Outside, he finds an unexpected scene that deepens the frown on his face. On the other end of the corridor, Johnny knocks fervently on Doyoung’s door.

“Doyoung, are you here?” The guard demands to know, concerned.

“Johnny!” Doyoung yelps as he runs towards his friend. “What the hell are you doing?”

Johnny whips around, and he lets out a sigh of relief the moment he catches sight of Doyoung. “The entire Palace Guard is looking for you and the Crown Prince,” he explains, his eyes following the prince’s steps. Doyoung can see the gears turning in Johnny’s head, and he gasps loudly the moment he realizes what Doyoung and Jaehyun’s absence, as well as the Northern Prince’s visit to his betrothed’s room could mean. “Were you—?”

“Goodness, no!” Doyoung shakes his hands in the air. “Not at all.”

“Then why—” Johnny stops himself, running his fingers through his hair. “You know what, forget it. I have more pressing matters to attend to, like informing my superiors that neither you nor the heir to the throne have been abducted.”

Doyoung exhales. “Yeah, you go do that.” He pushes the door to his room, eager to finally get some rest. “Goodnight, Johnny.”

Johnny scoffs. “Yeah, goodnight, Your Highness.”

♘

_Dearest Doyoung,_

_I’m very pleased to see that your relationship with the Crown Prince is progressing, albeit slowly, and that you have begun to understand him and his needs so early. I also know how proud and dismissive you can be, so it fills me with joy to see you ask for advice._

_However, I’m afraid I won’t be able to answer any of the questions you’ve asked me, brother. You will soon find out just how capricious love can be, how little logic there is to romance, and how unpredictable people in love are._

_Love is a game you learn to play through trial and error—so do that. Go out there, kiss your prince, make mistakes, fall in love, Doyoung._

_I suggest you discuss this with him, because he is the only one who can answer your questions. From what I’ve gathered through your letters, he seems just as lost as you. The best way for both of you to grow is to learn from each other. If marrying Seolhee has taught me anything, it is the value of listening to the people you love._

_You’re turning me into a sentimental wimp, brother. Remember when we used to communicate only through our fists and swords? We were a couple of fools, but our lives were easy. Everything has become so complicated now…_

_I know you will fight for your happiness. You’ve always been a stubborn, opinionated punk, and that’s what makes you stronger than most of us._

_Onto more frivolous matters—do you have a date for the wedding? Please keep me updated on that matter. I am, quite frankly, dying to see you, and if I don’t have an excuse to travel to the South soon, I will ride there and officiate your marriage myself. I’m warning you!_

_I hope to hear from you and this matter soon._

_Misses you terribly,_

_Gongmyung_

♘

“Last night was a disaster,” is the first thing Taeyong says to him the next morning.

“Taeyong, it’s too early for this,” Doyoung tries to dismiss him. “I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast,” he points out as he shoves a grape in his mouth.

“Yeah, well, _I_ am trying to do my job,” he claps back, but it doesn’t stop him from stealing a grape from Doyoung’s plate and munching on it nervously.

“Was it really that bad?” Doyoung grimaces. He’s not sure he wants to hear the answer to that question.

“It could have been worse,” Taeyong admits, taking a seat beside Doyoung. “But it could have been better. The Court approved of you, probably because they’re intrigued by your heritage and lineage—after all, you are the first Prince of the North to marry into Southern Royalty. However, they were also offended by your and the Crown Prince’s absence for most of the night.”

Doyoung pinches the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t have followed him outside. We both behaved childishly.”

Taeyong stares at the Prince for a few seconds, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, as if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to say. “Forgive my indiscretion,” he finally says, “but may I ask what happened between you two last night?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Doyoung deadpans, echoing Jaehyun’s words.

Taeyong blushes, embarrassed, and he nods. “Of course, I apologize for asking.” He straightens his back, regaining his composure. “If it’s any consolation, Prince Jaehyun is facing much harsher criticism. The Court believe that, as the Crown Prince, he should have been aware of the protocol involved in this type of events. You, however, are viewed as a foreigner, which is actually working in your favor in this case.”

“I can’t say I’m not happy to hear that.” The Northern Prince plays with his bottom lip nervously. “How is Johnny doing?”

Taeyong turns a vibrant red color again. “W-Why would I know that?”

Doyoung frowns, confused. “I assumed he reported back to you as well, considering he’s my personal guard. Did he not face any repercussions after last night?”

Taeyong’s shoulders sag in relief. “Oh, yes, that. I don’t think he’s the one being held accountable for this mess, thankfully. I heard the Queen called Jaehyun to her private chamber…” He pales and shivers. “And Donghyuck as well.”

“I doubt that kid will be able to stand up on his own for a week.”

As Doyoung finishes his sentence, the door to the dining room opens. Johnny walks in with a hard expression on his face and his muscles tense. Both Taeyong and Doyoung watch him as he approaches the table, expectant.

“Your Highness,” he greets Doyoung with coldness, like a true man of the North. “The Queen has requested your presence in her private chambers at once.”

Taeyong jumps out of his seat. “The Queen?! I thought the matter would be settled between her and her sons.”

Johnny shrugs, indifferent. It’s obvious that he’s still offended by Doyoung’s actions, and the prince’s heart stings with guilt. “I suppose she considers Doyoung one of her children now, as well.”

“But—”

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Taeyong,” Johnny cuts the advisor off. “I’m here to do my job, if you let me,” he declares with irony.

“He’s right,” Doyoung speaks as he stands up. “If the Queen asked for me, then I must go.”

Taeyong gives him a panicked look, but he remains silent. Doyoung doesn’t miss the furtive glance his advisor casts at Johnny as the guard escorts the Northern Prince out of the room.

“Listen, Johnny—” Doyoung tries to apologize once they’re in the corridor.

“Save it,” Johnny grunts. “The anger will dissipate in a few days, so there’s no point in apologizing.”

Doyoung sulks. “But I want to.”

Johnny raises his eyebrows at him. “You’re a prince, Doyoung, and I’m your guard. You don’t owe me anything.”

“You’re also my friend, John,” Doyoung affirms, wrapping his hand around Johnny’s forearm. “Please, don’t forget that.”

Johnny’s eyes widen in surprise. He doesn’t give Doyoung an answer, instead opting to nod in silence, but his face visibly softens.

Doyoung discovers that the Queen’s chambers are only one floor above his, and that the King has his own master bedroom, separate from his wife and hidden somewhere inside the Palace for security reasons. Doyoung hasn’t had much time to wonder about the King’s whereabouts, what with everything he has been experiencing, but it isn’t uncommon for monarchs to retreat and hide behind their consorts.

It doesn’t bother him that much—after all, he will be married to the future King himself one day. There’s no point in worrying about the obsolete.

“I’m not allowed to accompany you inside,” Johnny tells Doyoung as they approach the heavily guarded door to the Queen’s room. “Only her personal guards and guests have permission to enter. But I will be waiting for you outside.”

Doyoung sighs heavily. _Why must I do everything on my own_ , he wants to scream, _why is everyone so intent on making my life as difficult as possible?_

“Be careful,” Johnny warns him. “Don’t get yourself into unnecessary trouble.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes, but he appreciates the gesture, nonetheless. “You know me too well,” he jokes before walking into the room.

The Queen’s chambers are at least twice as big as Doyoung’s. They were clearly built for a monarch to live as much of their life inside them as possible, but Doyoung can’t point out a single piece of furniture or decoration that looks personalized. Not in the way the Garden oozes out the Queen’s personality, or the Sparring Room is covered in dents from Jaehyun’s sword. It’s a room filled with objects, and at the same time, it’s completely empty.

The Queen is sitting in an armchair, her two sons beside her on the loveseat. There’s another empty armchair, right in front of the Queen, and it clearly has Doyoung’s name on it.

“Prince Doyoung!” The Queen greets him the moment he walks in, smiling warmly at him. She’s wearing casual attire and her long, auburn hair is down. “Please, come join us. We had been waiting for you.”

“I apologize for making you wait, Your Majesty,” he bows deeply before sitting down.

“Oh, my dear, I’m not the one who deserves an apology.” She points at her younger son. “Donghyuck, if you will.”

Looking mortified and perhaps even a little green, Donghyuck turns to look at Doyoung with bloodshot eyes. He looks absolutely miserable, and it doesn’t come as a surprise. “I apologize for disrupting you last night, Prince Doyoung. My behavior was unacceptable.”

Doyoung shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. “It’s okay, Prince Donghyuck. You are forgiven.”

Beside Donghyuck, Jaehyun remains silent, his eyes unfocused. It’s almost as if he isn’t there with them.

“How graceful of you, Prince Doyoung,” the Queen praises him. “I, however, am no such thing. I believe in discipline—gentle and understanding, of course. Which is why all three of you will be joining me in this season’s hunting trip.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen in shock, and he finally speaks up. “But, Mother, I have duties—”

The Queen raises an elegant hand, and that’s all it takes to silence her son. “And one of them is to obey me, as both your mother and your Queen.”

Jaehyun clenches his jaw in frustration, but he doesn’t say anything else. Donghyuck is far too embarrassed to complain.

“What do you say, Prince Doyoung?” The Queen inquires, as if he had any choice but to agree.

“I think,” he looks directly at Jaehyun, “that it’s been a while since I last went hunting.”


	4. four

Less than two days later, all three princes are thrown into a carriage bound for the royal family’s hunting grounds.

Doyoung sits in front of the two brothers and busies himself by staring out the small window and enjoying the South’s beautiful scenery.

There seems to be some sort of looming tension between the two Southern princes, ready to snap anytime. Doyoung isn’t sure he wants to be trapped in this carriage with them once Jaehyun’s contained rage explodes.

“So—” Donghyuck speaks up after a while, once the Palace is barely visible behind them.

“Shut up,” Jaehyun barely gives him the chance to finish a single word. “Don’t make it worse.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes before looking at Doyoung with a mixture of annoyance and pity, as if he’s sorry Doyoung will be the one who has to deal with Jaehyun’s attitude in the future.

“Whatever you say, Your Royal Manchild,” Donghyuck mocks his older brother, clearly meaning to trigger that imminent conflict. Thankfully, Jaehyun ignores him, opting instead to huff like an angry dog.

Doyoung lets out a long, drawn out sigh. It’s going to be a difficult week.

The Royal Family’s hunting residence is a modest palace, built with much more discretion than the one in the city. It rises amongst the forest’s trees, almost camouflaged, and it is also surrounded by heavily armed guards.

Queen Yuna and all three princes are escorted inside by the guards and servants stationed in this Palace. Doyoung can’t recognize any of them, and the unfamiliar faces remind him about Johnny and Taeyong’s absence. Neither of them had been allowed to join them, despite Doyoung’s pleas.

The inside of the palace is also austere, especially when compared to their main residence. The Queen greets all of the servants with kind smiles, and she stops to converse with some of them as others bring their luggage inside.

“Jaehyun, Donghyuck,” she calls her sons’ attention. “Why don’t you show Doyoung around the estate?”

“Of course!” Donghyuck agrees happily, desperate to find something to do. “Come, Prince Doyoung,” he gestures at him to follow with a hand wave.

“Just Doyoung is okay,” the Northern Prince says as he follows the younger one up the stairs.

“Is that what Jaehyun calls you?”

“Donghyuck,” Jaehyun immediately cuts in. Doyoung turns around to look at him, and he finds a flustered, blushing prince. He can’t help but understand Donghyuck’s intentions; teasing Jaehyun is particularly entertaining.

“Actually, it is,” he responds, pulling a gasp out of Jaehyun.

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

“I believe,” Jaehyun declares as he hops up the stairs until he surpasses both Doyoung and Donghyuck, “that we were asked to show Prince Doyoung around, not to gossip like spinsters.”

Donghyuck sighs theatrically and pushes past his older brother. “You’re no fun, brother. Even the stuck-up Northerner is more playful than you.”

“Hey!” Doyoung protests. He’d made the mistake of thinking that siding with Donghyuck once would grant him immunity against his sharp mouth.

They quickly reach the first floor, which Doyoung finds out is the only one other than the bottom one. This palace was built solely for the Royal family to use, which means it has no reason to be ostentatious—there are no noblemen and women to impress.

“The Queen and King’s rooms are on the East wing, whereas ours are on the West wing,” Donghyuck explains as he leads Doyoung to their rooms. “Communal rooms such as the dining room or the small library are downstairs, and the stable and armory are behind the main building.”

“What do you usually use to hunt?” Doyoung questions, curious to know if there were any cultural differences in this regard as well.

Surprisingly, it’s Jaehyun who answers. “It depends on the prey,” he tells Doyoung. “For smaller animals such as deer or birds, we use bows, since they’re fast and stealthy. And for bigger animals…” He scratches the back of his head. “Well, I’ve never gone on bear or moose hunts, but I’ve heard that spears and chains are more effective against them.”

Doyoung nods. He’s comfortable with both the bow and the spear, and he has hunting experience, perhaps even more than the Southern princes, judging by their words and the nervousness with which they carry themselves in this trip.

“This is the princes’ room,” Donghyuck points at the room to his left. “And that’s the princesses’, although I guess it’s yours now.”

Doyoung frowns. “I’m not a princess.”

“Well, obviously, but it wouldn’t be very ethical for you to sleep in the same room as your betrothed before the wedding, right?”

Jaehyun lets out a heavy, angry sigh. “I don’t think _ethical_ is the word you’re looking for, idiot.”

Donghyuck sticks his tongue out. “And yet it still got under your skin.” He winks at Doyoung before pushing the door to their room open.

Jaehyun follows him, and he holds the door open for Doyoung. “You can come in, if you’d like. There’s nothing for you to do in that empty room other than sleep.”

This gesture takes Doyoung by surprise, but it’s a pleasant one. He gives Jaehyun a small smile as he walks past him and into the room.

The layout inside is similar to that of the private chambers in the city’s Palace, albeit less luxurious. There is no balcony or floor-to-ceiling window panels, and the furniture is designed to be more practical than statuesque.

Donghyuck throws himself onto one of the two double beds, kicking his shoes off without bothering to look where they landed. Jaehyun chooses a loveseat instead, dropping his cape on the armrest before taking a seat.

Unsure of what to do, Doyoung decides to sit on the armchair opposite to Jaehyun. It doesn’t take long before a soft snoring sound starts to come out of Donghyuck’s mouth, and Doyoung can’t help but start to doze off as well, exhausted after the long trip.

Through half lidded eyes, Doyoung watches Jaehyun stand up and walk to the small bookshelf behind him, from where he picks out a worn-down book that he immediately starts reading once he comes back to his seat.

The gentle and rhythmic sound of Jaehyun’s fingertips against the paper lulls Doyoung until he finally gives up and welcomes sleep blissfully.

Doyoung wakes up when he feels his body come in contact with the softness of a bed. He’s not in Jaehyun and Dognhycuk’s room anymore, although it’s so dark and he’s so drowsy that he can barely register what’s happening.

A shadow looms over him, laying him on the bed and tucking him in with strong arms but tender hands.

“What time is it?” Doyoung tries to ask, half-asleep.

“Don’t worry,” a deep, velvety voice answers. Despite his dazed state, Doyoung recognizes it immediately—it belongs to Jaehyun. “Sleep for as long as you need,” he whispers as he caresses the side of Doyoung’s face, a gesture that would have scandalized them both in any other context, yet for some reason feels nothing but right at that moment.

“Okay,” Doyoung murmurs, quickly regaining sleep. He has no reason to argue—as much as he enjoys bickering with Jaehyun, he is also extremely tired. His limbs feel heavy with the weight of months of emotional exhaustion, and Jaehyun’s soft touches calm him in ways no sleep remedies have been able to since he arrived at the Southern capital.

The last thing he hears before drifting off again is Jaehyun’s affectionate laughter.

The next time he wakes up, it’s to a less kind sight.

The morning sun shines almost painfully through the window, slapping Doyoung awake. He lets out a loud groan, rolling to is other side, but the damage has been done already. Sadly, his day has started.

Doyoung sits up in his bed and pushes off the suffocating covers. He then realizes that he’s still in his travel clothes, except for his boots, which are placed at the foot of the bed. How had he ended up fully clothed in bed?

_Oh, that’s right_ , he suddenly remembers, _Jaehyun_.

The thought of his betrothed carrying him into his room and laying him on the bed brings a vibrant red color to his cheeks, and he buries his face in the pillows in an attempt to hide from his shame.

It takes him a few minutes to feel brave enough to get out of bed and change into clean clothes. His luggage had also been brought into his room sometime yesterday, and surprisingly no maids try to dress or wash him themselves.

Outside his room, the corridors are dead silent, which allows him to hear the chatter coming from downstairs. He hops down the stairs, curious about all the noise.

The bottom floor is crowded with servants, most of which regard him with respectful bows as they run past him.

“Your Highness,” a higher-ranking servant calls him. “The Queen and her sons await you in the dining room.”

“Very well,” Doyoung says. “And where would that be?”

The servant nods as if he had been expecting that question. “Follow me, Your Highness.”

The dining room turns out to be closer and easier to find than Doyoung was expecting. This palace—if one can even call it that—is smaller in a way that makes it comfortable and easy to navigate, almost homely.

Doyoung finds the Southern Royal Family sitting around the dinner table, enjoying breakfast together, leisurely. It’s an image he’s not exactly used to, at all. Back home, in the North, he rarely shared meals with anyone other than his brother, and that was before he married the princess.

Doyoung supposes he has no reason to consider the North his home anymore.

“Doyoungie!” Donghyuck greets him with a bright smile and a mouth full of toast. “Finally! Come join us!”

Queen Yuna sits at the head of the table, her sons on each side of her. The chairs next to both Donghyuck and Jaehyun are empty, and Doyoung needs to make a meaningless but stressful choice.

He picks the one next to Jaehyun.

“Good morning, Prince Doyoung,” the Queen winks at him.

Jaehyun barely acknowledges him.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Doyoung nods at her before pouring himself a glass of orange juice. He ignores Jaehyun as well.

“We were wondering when you would wake up,” she tells him as she spreads some butter on her toast. “We’d heard rumors about you being a heavy sleeper, but I never would have guessed it was that extreme.”

_Sleep for as long as you need_. The Northern prince lets out an embarrassed laugh. “I apologize if I caused any troubles.”

Donghyuck snorts. “Please. I don’t think any of us were offended by your sleeping habits. In fact, I’d say someone enjoyed it a bit too much.” A sharp, thudding sound comes from under the table, and Donghyuck lets out a loud yelp. “What the hell?!”

“Now, now,” the Queen shushes her son. “Behave like the princes you are.”

Both Southern princes remain silent after that, but Jaehyun sends Donghyuck a death stare from across the table. Amused, Doyoung snorts into his glass. Next to him, Jaehyun gives him a strange look, somewhere between pleasantly surprised and mortified.

“You better behave more civilly once you’re out there,” the Queen chides her sons. “A moose won’t care about sibling banter—it’ll ram you both. Stay focused.”

Flustered, the two brothers lower their heads as they listen to their mother’s words.

“Same goes to you, Doyoung,” the Queen continues, making the young prince’s eyes widen.

“Your Majesty?” He asks, taken aback.

“Don’t let your marital bickering get in the way of the hunt.”

The sound of Donghyuck’s booming laughter covers Jaehyun’s scandalized complaints.

♘

The first few days of their week-long trip are uneventful. Donghyuck turns out to be a much more skilled hunter than Doyoung had been expecting, although he should’ve learnt not to underestimate the second prince already, if only from his own personal experience.

Jaehyun however… is much too soft. His eyes turn glossy after Doyoung shoots down a beautiful young deer, and he excuses himself for a minute to discreetly wipe his tears. It’s another side of his betrothed that surprises Doyoung—a sensibility and empathy that should make the Crown Prince weak, and yet he looks stronger than ever as he caresses the deer’s belly, comforting her as she dies.

The evenings are spent inside the small palace, reading or simply enjoying each other’s company. The Queen in particular takes pleasure in challenging her older son in chess, while Doyoung and Donghyuck watch as if it were a horse race.

Doyoung and Jaehyun barely spend any time alone, but they do interact a bit more naturally than they did before. Much like the Queen, Doyoung likes rivaling Jaehyun and bringing out that competitive side of him that the Northern prince hasn’t seen since their last sparring session. Neither of them mentions that first night, or the kiss.

♘

“Your Highness,” a servant approaches him on the last morning before their departure on the following day. “The Crown Prince is waiting for you outside, in the patio.”

Doyoung puts down the book he was reading. It’s the same one he’d seen Jaehyun pick up the first day—a 300-year-old poetry book that gives him nothing but headaches. “Waiting for me?” He asks, confused, but sits up, nonetheless. “Since when?”

“A couple of minutes ago, I believe,” the servant tells Doyoung as he accompanies him outside. “He spotted me and asked me to fetch you, Your Highness.”

The Northern prince follows the other man obediently, amazed by the fact that Jaehyun of all people is asking for him. Just as the servant told him, Doyoung finds his betrothed outside. With him are two horses, and two sets of bow and quiver, full of arrows.

Doyoung dismisses the servant with a quick “thank you” before approaching Jaehyun with curiosity and a tinge of excitement. “What’s all this?” He asks his betrothed.

Jaehyun smirks at him, but it’s easy to see that he is also slightly tense. “I thought it would be constructive for us to go out hunting on our own.”

“Just the two of us?” Doyoung inquires, to which Jaehyun nods. “Yeah, I’d say constructive is the most accurate descriptor then.”

“I-I thought it might be fun, too,” Jaehyun stutters, his nervousness becoming more and more obvious for every second Doyoung refuses to give him an answer.

“Interesting…” Doyoung trails off intentionally, dragging on Jaehyun’s torture for just a little longer. “Very well,” he finally agrees, putting the Crown Prince out of his misery. “I shall join you on this private hunt.”

Jaehyun visibly relaxes, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Perfect. Thank you, my prince,” he says. It has been a while since the last time he called Doyoung by that title, and while it can be considered cold or distant, it also gives the foreign prince as sense of belonging—it’s an affirmation that he is _Jaehyun’s prince_ before he is the Second Prince of the North or the Prince consort of the South.

Despite being perfectly capable of mounting a horse on his own, Doyoung indulges himself with Jaehyun’s strong hands, which help push him up and onto the saddle. Jaehyun hands Doyoung his bow and quiver before jumping onto his own saddle with swift movements.

“Where to?” Doyoung asks as he takes hold of the reins.

Jaehyun turns his horse around, headed into the forest behind the palace. “There’s a lake somewhere northwest of this palace. A servant told me it’s a popular drinking spot for moose.”

Doyoung quirks an eyebrow. “Since when do you like hunting moose?”

“I don’t,” Jaehyun admits as he straightens his horse. “But you do.”

The honesty in the Crown Prince’s answer takes Doyoung by surprise, but he recovers quickly when he sees his betrothed start to trot away without looking back.

The ride to the lake is a relaxed one. The two princes chat casually as they lead their horses into the woods. Jaehyun seems confident enough guiding them through the forest for Doyoung to feel at ease. Despite the change of season, this part of the country is still fighting against the last remnants of the cold—if one could even consider it as such, Doyoung argues, forever a man of the North.

“It’s freezing cold today,” Jaehyun complains as he shivers. He isn’t wearing a cape, probably because of how uncomfortable the added weight can be when hunting.

Doyoung barely feels a chill. Holding the reins with one hand, he brings the other one up to his neck, where his cape is fastened, and he unclasps it with experienced fingers. “Here, take mine,” he says to Jaehyun as he passes him the cape.

“But—” Jaehyun tries to argue.

“Take it,” Doyoung insists. “My skin is thicker than any of your Southern-sewn capes.”

Jaehyun snorts, and he takes the cape from Doyoung’s hand, throwing it over his shoulders and clasping it with his right hand.

“Better?” Doyoung teases him with a knowing smirk.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, and he fails to conceal the amused smile on his face. “Perhaps.”

It doesn’t take long after that for them to find the lake. It’s bigger than Doyoung had been expecting, but it hides inside a deep valley, behind rows and rows of robust trees. At first glance, it looks like nothing more than a wide lake with crystalline water, but as their horses approach the shore with hesitant hooves, Doyoung spots a dark shadow shuddering in the middle of what was supposed to be water.

“Oh my God,” Jaehyun gasps, stunned. “It’s a deer.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen in shock. “The lake is still frozen. How is it possible?”

“We’re right next to the border,” the Crown Prince explains as he dismounts his horse. “The weather here is more similar to that of the Middlelands.” Jaehyun seems entranced as he walks towards the shore, eyes set on the deer, which is actually nothing more than a fawn.

Doyoung jumps off of his horse and he ties both his and Jaehyun’s reins to the nearest tree. As he walks up to where his betrothed is standing, he pulls out an arrow from his quiver and nocks it in his bow before drawing it as he aims for the deer.

“No!” The Southern prince stops him, recklessly pushing the bow with his bare hands. “Are you out of your mind?”

Doyoung looks at him as if he had grown a second head. “Are you?!” He yells, infuriated. “What the hell do you think you’re doing scaring me like that when I’m armed? I could’ve hit you!”

“Why would you try to hit that deer?” Jaehyun cries out. He’s genuinely upset, eyes glossy and bottom lip trembling. “There’s no honor in killing a fawn.”

“There’s no honor in letting it die of drowning either,” Doyoung explains. “Trust me, with these temperatures the ice will start melting before dusk.”

Jaehyun scratches the back of his head, conflicted. All of a sudden, the small deer slips on the ice, and it makes a terrified sound as it struggles to push itself up again.

“Fuck!” Jaehyun makes his decision. “Wait here,” he tells Doyoung before stepping onto the frozen lake.

“Jaehyun, no!” Doyoung yells in panic as he stretches out a hand to drag his betrothed out of the ice, but Jaehyun slaps it away instantly. “Please, Jaehyun, get back here!” He begs, desperate. “You don’t understand how dangerous that is!”

Jaehyun walks on the ice with slow, tentative steps. There isn’t a single sound to be heard except for the crack of the ice beneath the Crown Prince’s feet and Doyoung’s pounding heartbeat. It’s as if the world has come to a halt, paralized by the sight of the heir to the most powerful throne in the continent risking his life to save a deer.

And then the ice cracks.

Doyoung watches in horror as the thin layer of ice breaks under Jaehyun, who barely has time to react before the freezing water swallows him whole. Startled by the noise, the fawn finds enough courage to run away, jumping out of the lake and onto safe land.

“Jaehyun!” Doyoung lets out a horrified scream.

He knows how this works. The initial panic of falling into the water makes the victim gasp for breath, sucking in the icy water. The cold makes the body go into shock, which can lead to cardiac arrest. After 5 minutes of immersion, the body begins to preserve heat by incapacitating the limbs and other non-vital organs. Any longer can lead to hypothermia and then… Death.

Without thinking twice, Doyoung pulls off his quiver and throws his bow somewhere on the grass. In an attempt to make himself lighter, he also takes off his jacket and boots, leaving himself almost unprotected to the cold. It’s a risk he’s willing to take.

The ice is painfully cold under Doyoung’s bare feet as he walks towards the hole in which Jaehyun has fallen with fast but careful steps. He knows how fragile ice can be, and if he falls into the water as well, then it’ll be two countries mourning the loss of their princes.

Doyoung kneels next to the crack, peeking inside to make sure that Jaehyun hasn’t drifted away. To both his surprise and dismay, Jaehyun hasn’t moved an inch, which confirms that his body went into shock as soon as he fell into the water. Doyoung sinks both of his hands into the hole, and he wraps his fingers around the first thing he can see—the cape. He pulls as hard as he can until Jaehyun’s head emerges, and then he shoves his hands under the Crown Prince’s shoulders to yank him out of the freezing water.

Jaehyun remains unresponsive as Doyoung drags him out of the frozen lake. The ice continues to make small cracking sounds that the Northern prince knows will haunt him in his sleep, but, magically, it doesn’t break again.

Thanks to nothing but what Doyoung would call divine intervention, they both make it to the shore, and he lays Jaehyun’s body on the shore.

“Jaehyun, come on,” he shakes the boy to no avail. “Wake up!”

Nothing. The Southern prince’s skin is cold to the touch, and his body is stiff and heavy. Afraid he might have inhaled too much water, Doyoung pushes down on Jaehyun’s chest one, two, three times, until the prince suddenly wakes, coughing up all of the icy water in his lungs.

“Doyoung…” He moans, half unconscious.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Doyoung assures him as he caresses Jaehyun’s wet face and hair.

“‘M s-so cold,” Jaehyun starts shivering in Doyoung’s arms, and his lips turn a terrifying shade of purple.

Doyoung quickly unclasps the cape around Jaehyun’s neck, throwing it as far away from the prince as possible, before also removing his dripping jacket and shirt.

“Here,” he says as he reaches out to retrieve the jacket he had taken off before. “This is warm.”

“Bed,” Jaehyun coughs out. “I want a bed.”

Doyoung lets out a panicked laugh. He dries Jaehyun’s face with the sleeve of his jacket before helping him into it. “We need to get you home now.”

With the help of his adrenaline and desperation, Doyoung manages to pick Jaehyun up and throw him onto one of the horses. He unties the reins before jumping onto the saddle and wrapping his arms around Jaehyun’s trembling body, who snuggles up against him, chasing his heat.

“It will be okay,” he comforts the shivering prince as he orders the horse to trot with a harsh kick. “You’re safe now.”

♘

Jaehyun sleeps for two days. Doctors go in and out of his room, monitoring his state, and no one else except for the Queen is allowed inside.

One side of Doyoung believes that it is all very theatrical, an exaggerated reaction justified by the importance of Jaehyun’s title. The other is unconditionally and eternally grateful that his betrothed is receiving proper treatment.

Donghyuck keeps him as much company as a worried brother can. Both are mostly silent during those two torturous days, but sharing their concern brings them some sort of comfort.

Both of them are resting in the living room when the Queen walks in without warning. Donghyuck jumps out of his seat and rushes to his mother.

“Mother,” he breathes out as he wraps his hands around hers. “Any news?”

The Queen nods. She looks older than she ever has before in Doyoung’s eyes, and her usual light has dimmed down notably. “He is awake, finally,” she tells them. Donghyuck immediately lets out a sigh of relief, and Doyoung walks up to them. “The doctors said he didn’t suffer any major injuries, and that his body has already returned to a healthy temperature.”

“Oh, thank God,” the youngest prince cries out.

“He only needs rest and patience to recover from the shock,” the Queen gives them a small, relieved smile. “We will start our journey back home as soon as tomorrow.”

“Is Jaehyun in the proper state to travel?” Doyoung butts in.

“The doctors confirmed there are no risks, and he’ll rest more comfortably in his own home,” the Queen informs him.

“Can I see him?” Donghyuck asks with pleading eyes.

The Queen pats his cheek before turning to look at Doyoung. “He asked for his betrothed first.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen. “Me?”

The woman lets out an amused chuckle. “Does he have any other promised brides that I’m not aware of?”

The prince’s cheeks redden. “Right, of course.”

The Queen laughs again. “Go,” she gestures with a tilt of her head.

Doyoung excuses himself with a slight bow and tries not to look too eager as he runs up the stairs to the princes’ room. He finds the door guarded by both armed men and doctors, who greet him with polite nods before pushing the door open for him.

Doyoung finds Jaehyun sitting up in his bead, reading one of his worn-down books. He looks up the moment he hears the door close, and his eyes light up as soon as they land on his prince.

“Doyoung!” He sings. The color has returned to his face, all rosy cheeks and pink lips. The memory of Jaehyun’s cold, gray body in his arms flashes before Doyoung’s eyes, and he has to swallow the lump in his throat before he speaks.

“Jaehyun,” the Northern prince strides towards the bed and sits on the edge, right next to the Crown Prince’s knee. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Jaehyun snorts inelegantly. “Please, it was only two days.”

Doyoung gives his knee a playful slap. “Two very stressful days, mind you. We were all worried sick.”

Jaehyun runs a hand through his soft, unstyled hair. It’s getting longer, and his fringe falls over his eyes, which gives him a youthful look. “I’m sorry about that. I acted irrationally and put you in danger as well.”

“You did,” Doyoung agrees.

“I regret putting you in unnecessary danger, but I don’t regret what I did.”

“Jaehyun, you almost gave your life to save a deer,” the Northern prince sighs, frustrated.

“Is my life worth more than that fawn’s?” Jaehyun questions him.

“It is to me,” he answers truthfully, effectively silencing the Crown Prince.

They both remain silent for a while, assessing the weight of Doyoung’s words. The Northern prince stretches a tentative hand towards Jaehyun, who lays his on his betrothed’s palm.

“You know,” Doyoung starts as he caresses Jaehyun’s knuckles with his thumb. “The deer survived.”

“It did?” Jaehyun’s eyes widen.

“All the noise startled it out of its stupor, and it ran out of the lake. I suppose that, in a way, you achieved your goal.”

The Crown Prince laughs softly, and he holds Doyoung’s hand a little tighter. “I don’t know how to thank you for what you did, my prince. I owe you my life now.”

Doyoung lets go of Jaehyun’s hand so he can cup his cheek. Under his palm, it feels warm and healthy—alive. “I guess the only way you can repay me is by sharing it with me.”

♘

They depart the next day, just before noon. Jaehyun holds tightly onto Doyoung as the Northern prince helps him out of the palace and into the carriage, where he chooses to sit beside his betrothed instead of his brother.

Donghyuck snarls at him. “I see how it is.”

The servants shut the door right as Jaehyun winks at his brother. “Sorry, brother, but Doyoung is warmer than you, and the doctor said I must keep warm at all times.”

“I bet he is.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but Doyoung can tell that he’s not too offended.

This trip is a little more animated than the previous one. Now comfortable with each other, all three princes chat about anything and everything to keep themselves entertained as their carriage swayed and bounced on the gravel.

Jaehyun starts nodding off as the sky begins to darken, and it doesn’t take long before his head falls on Doyoung’s shoulder. Feeling bold as well as tired, Doyoung rests his cheek on the crown of Jaehyun’s head before closing his eyes.

Jaehyun’s gentle hand on his shoulder wakes him up hours later. “We’re here,” the Crown Prince whispers. His hair is tousled and there’s an imprint of the fabric of Doyoung’s jacket on his cheek.

Doyoung rubs his eyes before looking out the tiny window. Despite the pitch-black darkness, the torches lighting their way tell Doyoung that their carriage is arriving at the Palace’s carport.

“It’s so late it’s early,” Jaehyun observes as he tries to comb his hair with a gloved hand.

Their carriage comes to a halt behind the Queen’s, and a servant runs to their car to open the door and help them out. Donghyuck jumps down first, followed by Doyoung, who quickly turns around to lend Jaehyun a hand as the Crown Prince climbs out of the carriage with careful steps.

“My boys!” A familiar voice chants. Doyoung lifts his head to see Taeyong hopping excitedly towards them, Johnny trailing behind. The advisor’s face falls the moment he realizes something is wrong with Jaehyun, and he starts examining the prince before even saying hello. “What’s wrong with you? Did you break a bone? Do you have a fever?”

“Relax, Taeyong,” Jaehyun cackles. “I’m fine, it was nothing. I’ll tell you all about it inside, okay?”

“Yes, let’s get you somewhere warm,” Doyoung agrees, wrapping an arm around Jaehyun’s waist as support.

Johnny raises an eyebrow at this gesture, but he’s smart enough not to comment on it at that time. He slaps Doyoung’s shoulder as a way of greeting him, and just like that everything feels right again. Doyoung suddenly realizes how much his relies on his guard, both physically and emotionally. In just a few months, Johnny has easily made his way into Doyoung’s life and heart, and without him, the prince feels completely defenseless. Doyoung without Johnny is like a table that’s missing a leg.

“Come on,” Johnny says with a kind smile. “Let’s get you all inside.”

Taeyong looks up at him with a glint in his eyes. “Yeah, let’s.”

“I’m guessing you and the Crown Prince have made your peace,” Johnny comments with a smirk as he escorts Doyoung to his room. Jaehyun and Taeyong stayed behind with the Queen.

“You could say that,” Doyoung replies, taking off his gloves as he walks into the room he has missed for over a week.

“Oh, come on, Your Highness,” Johnny continues to prod as he drops himself on one of the armchairs. Nowadays, he only ever uses Doyoung’s title to get under his skin. “I’m your friend, your confidant.”

“No, I believe that title belongs to Taeyong,” Doyoung teases his friend as he removes his cape and jacket. “You’re far too gossipy for me to trust you.”

Johnny, in all his armed royal guard glory, pouts at his prince, battling his eyelashes in an attempt to convince Doyoung to confess. “I won’t tell a soul, I promise.”

Doyoung lets out a dramatic sigh, but he still sits down right in front Johnny, who in that moment knows he has won. “Many, many things have happened but… Jaehyun and I are headed in the right direction, or at least I hope so.”

“It certainly looked like it.”

“Yes, Jaehyun is a bit clingier than I expected,” Doyoung chuckles, playing nervously with his sleeve buttons.

“What happened on this hunting trip?” Johnny urges him to continue, fully invested in the princes’ story.

Doyoung gulps as he remembers the terrifying coldness of Jaehyun’s skin. “Jaehyun… He fell into a frozen lake.” Johnny’s face pales at the prince’s words, but he remains silent. “We were alone and I— I had to pull him out of that lake myself.” Doyoung avoids Johnny’s eyes, staring instead at his twitching hands and holding his tears back. “That experience, as horrifying as it was, brought us closer than ever before. Jaehyun is very grateful for what I did, but I’m just glad he’s alive.”

For a long, awkward minute, Johnny remains silent, gaping at Doyoung like he can’t wrap his head around what he’d just heard.

“So, you’re telling me,” he finally speaks, “that you, the Second Prince of the North, saved Jaehyun, the Crown Prince of the South, from certain death with your bare hands.” He lets out an obnoxiously loud laugh, startling Doyoung and making him jump in his seat. “It sounds like one of my cheap romance novels.”

Doyoung slaps his friend’s arm, but he’s far from offended. If anything, he’s grateful—for Johnny, and his sense of humor, and his lighthearted personality, and his ability to forgive Doyoung’s arrogance. For a second, Doyoung wonders if he might have allowed himself to love Johnny in another life, if he didn’t have a duty to fulfill and Jaehyun’s smile wasn’t as sweet.

“I should let you rest.” Johnny stands up from his seat, and he rubs the prince’s hair with an affectionate hand. “I’m sure you need it.”

“I do,” Doyoung agrees. “It was a long trip.”

Johnny smiles at him, and it’s a smile full of comfort and friendship and badly kept secrets. It’s Doyoung’s favorite smile.

“Goodnight, my prince.”

“Goodnight, my friend.”

♘

_Dearest Gongmyung,_

_So much has happened in such a short amount of time… I apologize for not writing sooner, but I’ve been extremely busy these past few weeks._

_In your last letter, you asked me to “go out there and make mistakes” and, unfortunately, that’s exactly what I did. After the Ball—which was something between a success and a disaster—Jaehyun and I had a confrontation, which resulted in me kissing him. In the end, it meant nothing, because the youngest Southern royal barfed all over himself before the kiss could turn into anything else. Neither him nor I have mentioned it since, but we’re both very obviously carrying its weight._

_I thought that kiss and its resulting tension had wounded our relationship, and apparently so did the Queen, because she dragged us and her other son on a hunting trip—something Jaehyun is terrible at, by the way._

_It ended up being the most important trip of my life, brother, because I had to save Jaehyun’s life. He, in all his innocence and kindness, tried to save a young deer from falling into frozen waters and, well, you can probably guess the results. We were all alone when that happened, and I had pull him out of that lake with my own hands._

_Frankly, it was traumatizing, but it also gave me something of immeasurable value—Jaehyun’s trust. Our bond has become stronger, and I feel like we both are more comfortable and open with each other._

_As for the date of our wedding… I can’t tell you yet. I should discuss it with the Queen, because dragging on the wait for much longer feels pointless. It’s not that I’m desperate to marry Jaehyun, but I believe loving him will be easier once I can call him my husband. Worry not, I’ll write to you as soon as a date is set._

_Loves and misses you,_

_Doyoung_


	5. five

Jaehyun gets relieved of his duties for a month, which Doyoung considers excessive, especially because his betrothed chooses to spend his free time following him everywhere.

“Is there nothing more stimulating for a man as cultured as you than watching me study Southern history?” Doyoung sighs as he stabs a parchment with his pen.

“I find Southern history quite stimulating, actually,” Jaehyun replies with his irritatingly smooth voice.

The Library has quickly become one of Doyoung’s favorite spots in the Palace. Not because he likes to read, but because he enjoys the privacy and silence that it provides. Jaehyun’s presence disrupts both.

“At least find something to do other than stare at me,” Doyoung hisses through gritted teeth. As endearing as the Crown Prince can be, he also possesses the ability to be unbearably annoying, which he is fully aware of and uses for his own advantage.

“Why don’t you let me help you?” Jaehyun suggests with a smirk.

“Help me with what, exactly?” Doyoung snorts. “It’s history, not alchemy. The best thing you can do to help me is to stop distracting me.”

Jaehyun pushes himself out of his seat, and his chair makes an ear-splitting noise that garners him a few ugly stares. Inside the Library, your silence means more than your title.

The Crown Prince walks around the table and takes a seat right next to Doyoung, who looks up at him with a raised eyebrow and a pinch of patience left. “Let me see,” he whispers, taking the book Doyoung had been using without bothering to wait for his reply. “Ah, the Independence War.”

“Yes,” Doyoung grunts. “Now hand over the book and leave.”

“Treat your future King with some respect,” Jaehyun teases him, flipping through the pages fast and carelessly. “This is all very interesting, but,” he shuts the book with a loud bang, “ultimately useless.”

Doyoung scowls at him and rips the book from his hands. “Don’t be ignorant.”

“I’m not!” Jaehyun cackles. “If I’m going to be King, then you are going to be Prince consort. Which means that you must focus on the future instead of the past, for our Kingdom and our people.”

“Reflecting on the mistakes of the past allows us to make better choices in the future,” Doyoung argues, turning away from Jaehyun.

“I doubt studying the Independence War will teach you anything useful. The Red Islands won’t be invading us anytime soon, not with someone as Yuta as their future leader.” The Crown Prince stands up, but he doesn’t move from beside Doyoung. After a while, the Northern prince decides to look up, and his eyes find Jaehyun’s hand stretched out, asking for Doyoung’s. “Come on,” Jaehyun flashes his dimpled smile, and Doyoung is done for. “Let me teach you something relevant.”

Exhausted from Jaehyun’s antics, Doyoung gives in. He puts down his pen and pushes himself out of his chair as discreetly as he can before laying his hand on top of Jaehyun’s.

“Follow me.”

Jaehyun doesn’t let go of Doyoung’s hand until they arrive at their destination, which—to Doyoung’s surprise—is the underground floor, where all the servants are housed. Doyoung watches, confused, as Jaehyun knocks on one of the doors with the confidence of a regular visitor.

But when the door opens, he seems just as lost as the foreign prince.

“Johnny?” Doyoung gasps at the state of his friend—shirt half unbuttoned and hair a disheveled mess.

“Uhm,” Jaehyun mutters, his ears already as red as one of the Queen’s roses. “I’m almost certain I knocked on Taeyong’s door.”

“Oh, God,” the advisor’s unmistakable voice comes from behind Johnny, and he pushes the tall guard aside to stand before the two princes. Just like the other man, most of his clothes are missing, and there’s a deep purple bruise blossoming under his clavicle. “This is not how I wanted either of you to find out.”

Doyoung bursts into laughter, holding his stomach as his body shakes. “I wasn’t expecting _this_ when you said you wanted to teach me something relevant.”

Jaehyun screeches. “I swear I had no idea about this!” He shakes his hands in the air, gesturing vaguely towards Johnny and Taeyong.

“What are you even doing here, Jaehyun?” Taeyong asks, defeated. He doesn’t look half as ashamed as he should, standing half-naked in front of the two princes he has sworn to serve. Doyoung can easily understand why Johnny has fallen for him.

“I need you to open the servant gate for me,” Jaehyun replies, avoiding his advisor’s eyes. His cheeks are still beet red.

“Goddammit, Jaehyun. Are you fifteen again?” Taeyong chides him like an annoyed older brother.

“I only wanted to take Doyoung on a walk around the city,” Jaehyun murmurs through a pout. Doyoung has grown to know him quite well in the last few weeks, and he can tell when the Crown Prince uses his charms to his advantage.

Luckily for him, they work most of the time. “Fine,” Taeyong caves in, going back into his room to wrap a long robe around himself. He pulls out a heavy-looking set of keys from one of his drawers, and he brushes Johnny’s cheek as he walks past him and out of the room. “Give me five minutes,” he pleads, an unnecessary measure in Doyoung’s opinion, if the adoration in Johnny’s eyes means anything.

“I’ll start counting down right now,” Johnny huffs before shutting the door, and Doyoung has to cover his mouth to prevent himself from laughing again.

“Come on,” Taeyong starts walking away, in a very obvious hurry.

The advisor takes them through one of the main corridors, until they reach a small hall with a large wooden door.

“Here,” Taeyong opens a closet and pulls out a couple of cheap, worn down jackets, throwing them into the princes’ hands. “Put them on,” he orders them. “And you can’t go out in those leather boots. These are more appropriate,” the advisor hands them two sets of sandals.

The two princes change into their clothes obediently, and Taeyong uses one of his many keys to unlock the door, which creaks almost incriminatingly. “I want you back home before sunset,” he tells Jaehyun with a stern look. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” Jaehyun assures his advisor as he takes hold of Doyoung’s hand again and drags him out the door. “I have Doyoung with me!”

The Northern prince gasps sharply once they step outside. All of a sudden, he finds himself surrounded by water, a floating stone path that leads to the shore before him.

“What the—”

“Shhh,” Jaehyun silences him and then points to the stones above them. “Do you hear it?”

Doyoung remains silent as he tries to listen. Above them, there’s a hollow sound, approaching them with rhythmic steps. “Horses,” Doyoung realizes. “We’re under the Palace’s bridge.”

“Correct,” Jaehyun smiles at him, pulling him by the hand again. Neither of them lets go as they walk towards the shore. “This is the pedestrian bridge. Our servants and other workers use it to move between the city and the Palace.”

“An intruder could use it to sneak into the Palace as well,” Doyoung reasons, looking at the door over his shoulder.

“I won’t tell you it hasn’t been attempted before,” Jaehyun admits. “But no one has ever survived long enough to reach any of the Royal Family members.”

“What about you?” Doyoung asks as they approach the end of the bridge. “How did you find out about this door?”

The Crown Prince smiles fondly. “Taeyong hasn’t always been the rigid advisor he is today. We were raised together and shared all of our secrets. There are very few things about this Palace that Taeyong is unaware of.”

The bustling sound of the city hits Doyoung like a tidal wave the moment they step out of the bridge. Crying, laughing, screaming, barking… The foreign prince feels a shiver run down his spine at the thought of being exposed to so much _life_.

“Don’t worry,” Jaehyun pulls him closer as he leads him downtown. “No one will recognize us, and they’ve never seen you before.”

Doyoung swallows his uneasiness. “Don’t walk so fast, we’ll get lost.”

“I’ve been doing this since I was thirteen, my prince,” Jaehyun explains, pulling Doyoung deeper into the city. “I know these streets like the back of my hand. Trust me.”

“I trust you,” Doyoung answers firmly, which earns him a curious look from his betrothed.

Jaehyun yanks him through the busy, crowded streets of the Capital City. Doyoung bumps into beggars, street vendors and clumsy children, none of which seem to recognize him. He quickly understands why Jaehyun had started sneaking out into the city at such a young age—when you are burdened by the weight of such a heavy title upon birth, anonymity becomes a treasure to hunt.

“The city is beautiful,” Doyoung shouts over the noise so his betrothed can hear him.

Jaehyun smiles at him, so broad that Doyoung can see his sharp fangs, a trait that somehow makes him even more endearing. “Isn’t it?” He pulls Doyoung a little closer. “We’re almost there, come on.”

_There_ is a tiny bookshop hidden inside one of the many entangled alleys in the center of the city. A pleasant jingle greets them from the windchime above them as Jaehyun pushes the door open, pulling Doyoung inside with him.

“Ah, Yuno!” An old woman walks up to them with eager steps, and the Crown Prince lets go of Doyoung’s hand so he can wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. “It’s been so long!” She pinches Jaehyun’s cheek like one would do to a child, and the prince’s ears turn bright red in embarrassment. “I was beginning to think you’d never visit me again.”

“I’m sorry, Ma,” he apologizes to her as he rubs his cheek. “I’ve been terribly busy.”

“And who’s this?” The old woman, Ma, points at Doyoung with a wrinkled finger.

Jaehyun takes a moment to assess him, and Doyoung can almost see the gears turning in his head. “This,” he places a hand on the foreign prince’s shoulder, “is my partner, Dongyoung.”

Something stirs inside Doyoung when he hears the word _partner_ come out of Jaehyun’s lips. It’s not entirely a lie, obviously, but it’s not true either. A partner is someone you choose, and the princes had never had the chance to choose each other. A new question arises in Doyoung’s head—given the case, would he choose to love Jaehyun? Or even worse, would Jaehyun choose to love him?

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dongyoung.” Ma embraces him as well, which surprises Doyoung enough to bring him out of his trance and awkwardly return the hug. “You know where to find your books, Yuno,” she addresses Jaehyun after letting go of the Northern prince. “I haven’t let anyone purchase a single one of them.”

“You’re too kind, Ma,” Jaehyun thanks her with an irresistible dimpled smile before taking hold of Doyoung’s hand again. “We’ll take as many as we can.”

The old woman winks at them as she returns to her seat behind a counter built with nothing but books, and Doyoung lets Jaehyun guide him through the shop.

“ _Yuno_?” He asks, confused.

“It’s the name I use in the city,” Jaehyun explains as he stops in front of a ceiling-tall bookshelf. “The people might not know my face, but they know my name.”

Doyoung hums in understanding, and he lets go of Jaehyun’s hand so the Crown Prince can bend down to examine the books Ma had offered him. “And _Dongyoung_?” The Northern prince suddenly recalls. “How did you know about that name? Not even the people of the North are aware of it.”

“I’ve done my research, just like you have,” Jaehyun responds, rising from his crouching position with a book in his hands. It’s so old it’s almost falling apart, but Jaehyun looks at it with wondrous eyes as he flips the pages with delicate fingers. “This is where I get most of my books from,” he tells Doyoung, leaning into him to show him the book. “Because it’s a second-hand shop, they have some of the strangest books I’ve ever seen. Ma doesn’t ask questions when she purchases them.”

“What are your favorites?” Doyoung inquires, skimming over the pages of an ancient book in a language he can’t understand.

“I mostly read poetry,” Jaehyun says. “Northern poetry, in particular. It’s austere, yes, but also honest, to the point where it can be cruel.” He glances at Doyoung with a strange look in his eyes, and then he gulps before continuing. “I find Southern poetry a bit too shallow. Beautifully written, but hollow.”

“I see,” Doyoung nods. “It sounds like you’re quite the avid reader.”

Jaehyun picks a few books and piles them in his hands. “Reading is freeing when you’re trapped by your duty,” he mumbles from behind his pile. They walk back to the counter and Ma gives Jaehyun a sack for his books. It’s dirty and has some questionable stains, but the Crown Prince doesn’t seem to mind as he shoves all his purchases and throws it over his shoulder.

“Here you go,” he smiles at Ma as he hands her a gold coin, which definitely exceeds the total price, but Ma accepts it willingly and asks no questions about how a young man dressed in servant clothes could have acquired so much money. “We’ll come back soon, Ma!”

The windchime sings as Jaehyun pulls the door open, chivalrously moving aside so Doyoung can exit first.

“Not soon enough!” Ma waves them goodbye from her book-made counter, and Jaehyun winks at her one last time before closing the door after himself.

The Crown Prince looks up at the sky as he brushes some rebellious strands of hair out of his eyes. “Ah, we still have a few hours,” he informs Doyoung as he watches the darkening sky. “I want you to see the Cathedral.”

Jaehyun takes him to the biggest square in the city, built around the Cathedral, which is a massive stone temple designed with the same excessiveness as everything in the South is. Doyoung stares in awe at the grandiose building, taking in every stone and stained glass. He lets his betrothed lead him inside, dodging a couple of running children, who are too occupied with their adventures to notice the two young men walking through the square.

The inside of the Cathedral is dark and dimly lit, spacious enough for it to not feel claustrophobic, but so silent the Northern prince can almost hear his heartbeat. Jaehyun’s sandals thump against the floor as he moves to sit on one of the benches nearest to the altar, followed closely by Doyoung, who’s still trying to process the magnitude of the temple.

“You know,” Jaehyun whispers into Doyoung’s ear once they’re both seated. “This is where our wedding ceremony will be held.”

Doyoung gapes at him, dumbfounded. “Here? It’s… stunning.”

Jaehyun nods in agreement, and they fall into a comfortable silence as the foreign prince continues to observe the magnificent architecture. “When I was unconscious,” Jaehyun starts, all of a sudden, and Doyoung whips his head to look at him immediately. “I dreamt about this place, and us. Our wedding.”

“You did?” Doyoung can feel his cheeks begin to redden.

“I did.” Jaehyun plays nervously with one of his bracelets, twisting it between his fingers. “I know I can be distant, and even apathetic sometimes, but I look forward to being your husband, Doyoung,” he admits, voice and hands shaky from the significance of his words.

Doyoung swallows around the lump in his throat. “Jaehyun—”

“Can I kiss you?” The Crown Prince interrupts him with an unexpected question, his eyes shiny with emotion. Doyoung nods, and he closes eyes as Jaehyun leans in, his hot breath on the Northern prince’s mouth. However, the kiss never comes, and Doyoung feels Jaehyun’s lips pressing softly against his cheek, where he lingers for a few seconds before pulling away with a satisfied smile. Doyoung blinks at him, puzzled.

“It’s almost nightfall,” the Crown Prince comments, acting as if nothing had happened. “We should return to the Palace. We don’t want to make Taeyong angry.” He stands up and extends a hand in front of Doyoung. “My prince.”

Doyoung intertwines their fingers, brushing his palm against skin that is quickly becoming as familiar as his own. “Let’s go _home_.”

♘

“And the dining table will be placed here,” Taeyong explains, pointing to the center of the Garden.

Doyoung hums. “I still can’t believe the Queen offered to throw our wedding banquet in her precious garden.”

“I believe it’s her way of apologizing for rushing the process,” Jaehyun shrugs. Today he’s dressed the most casual Doyoung has ever seen him, with a pearly white silk shirt and light brown cotton pants.

“You’ll be married right before the end of Spring,” Taeyong thinks aloud. “And to think Doyoung arrived during the Winter…” He taps his bottom lip repeatedly, trapped in thought. “Time really does fly.”

“Spring is a sacred season in the Middlelands,” Jaehyun says as his fingers pinch a rose’s petal. “It symbolizes life, new beginnings, regeneration, healing…” He trails off. “And fertility, of course.”

Doyoung snorts. “Not like that matters to us.”

The Crown Prince blushes a deep red the moment he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth, and he turns his head in an attempt to hide his embarrassment from his betrothed.

“The Orchestra will play in that corner,” Taeyong continues to describe, unaware of the awkward air floating between the two princes.

“I don’t think grass is the best ground to dance on,” Doyoung observes.

“Don’t worry, everyone will be too drunk to notice.” Taeyong shakes his hand in front of his face, as if he could wave away Doyoung’s worries. “The two grooms will sit at the very center of the table,” he speaks as he draws said table with his fingers. “The Queen will sit beside Jaehyun, and the Northern royals will sit before the grooms.”

“What about the King?” Doyoung asks, instantly shutting Taeyong up. “He must have a seat at our wedding table.”

Jaehyun and his advisor share a quick, panicked glance, but it’s not fast enough to go unnoticed by Doyoung, whose frown deepens.

“Don’t worry about that, my prince,” Jaehyun places a comforting hand on Doyoung’s shoulder, and the Northern prince can tell that his betrothed is trying to distract him from his question. “What about our gowns?” The Crown Prince asks Taeyong, not-so-discreetly changing the subject. “They must be fitted perfectly.”

The advisor looks up at his prince with those wide, glossy eyes. “Oh, yes! Of course!” He blinks himself out of his daze. “Both are being designed already, and we will soon start—”

“Your Royal Highness,” a guard’s voice interrupts Taeyong’s speech, and both princes turn around to respond. The guard’s eyes fall on Jaehyun, and Doyoung lowers his head at the realization that he was not the one being addressed.

“Yes?” Jaehyun answers, voice sharp with irritation due to the interruption.

“Your meeting with the Queen is scheduled to start in five minutes, Your Highness.”

The Crown Prince sighs, and he gives Doyoung a regretful, apologetic look.

Doyoung shakes his head. “Go,” he orders his betrothed. “Don’t worry about me, I have excellent company.” He places a hand on Taeyong’s elbow, and the advisor gives him a flattered smile.

“Very well,” Jaehyun agrees. He takes hold of Doyoung’s free hand and presses a soft kiss on its knuckles. “I won’t be long.” The Crown Prince yells over his shoulder as he jogs away to wherever he was needed.

“You cracked his mask,” Taeyong breathes out once Jaehyun is out of earshot.

Doyoung stares at the advisor, completely lost. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Jaehyun,” Taeyong says, leaving the prince just as confused. “He’s honest around you. He’s… well, himself.”

Doyoung gulps. The fact that Jaehyun’s closest friend, the person who knows him best, believes that the Crown Prince has begun to show Doyoung his true self is nothing if not intimidating.

“You’re far more compatible than any of us would have ever though,” the advisor mumbles. His comments are starting to make the Northern prince uncomfortable, so he quickly finds a way to redirect the conversation.

“Speaking of, I hope Johnny’s courting you properly.”

Taeyong’s doe eyes widen, and he gawks at Doyoung as if the prince had caught him with a hand inside the Royal Family’s vault. “I— Well, it’s not like _that_.”

Doyoung quirks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “So, it’s only sex, then.”

The advisor rubs his forehead, visibly stressed. “No, it’s not.” He lets out a long, tired sigh. “You see, us commoners don’t have the privilege of courting, especially as workers of the Palace. If I waited for Johnny to court me, I would never have him.” Taeyong straightens his jacket, a bit more dignified.

Doyoung scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed by his ignorance and insensibility. Blinded by his position as a royal, he assumed that people like Taeyong and Johnny interact like the higher classes do—that their rush to be with each other is nothing but fickle and impatient lust, instead of the unpredictability of a precarious life.

“Taeyong, I’m sorry,” Doyoung apologizes with a bow.

“Don’t worry, Doyoungie,” the advisor forgives him, patting his cheek. “It’s nothing serious, anyway.” He doesn’t say the word, but the prince hears it very clearly.

_Yet_.

♘

Preparations for the wedding start almost a month before the event, which Doyoung quickly finds out is not early enough.

The poor seamstresses work around the clock to sew together his and Jaehyun’s gowns, tailoring them to fit exactly right. Doyoung is consulted about the color of the flowers that will frame the aisle, about the flavor of the cake, about the music that will play during the banquet… Frankly, he finds most of these details pointless. The end result will be the same regardless of the flowers or cakes—by the end of the ceremony, Jaehyun and Doyoung will be tied for the rest of their lives.

The Crown Prince, however, enjoys partaking in the process immensely. He eagerly chats with the florist and tries all types of cakes and pastries with a dimpled smile on his face. He clearly revels in the attention and is also much more sentimental and romantic than Doyoung has ever been or will ever be, no matter how lovely Jaehyun looks as he munches on cake, a flower crown resting atop his head.

Doyoung sends an invitation to his family, warning them about the eccentricities of the South. Weddings in the North are a private matter, even amongst royalty and nobility. Marriage is considered a sacred union, as well as a very private bond between bride and groom. Doyoung remembers the day of Gongmyung’s wedding, and how empty the chapel had been, as only their closest relatives had been in attendance. It had been somber, almost sad; the exact opposite of Doyoung’s wedding, colorful and over the top.

All in all, the foreign prince is grateful. His wedding will be beautiful, lively and joyful. He will be surrounded by friends and family, all of whom want nothing but to see him happy—Jaehyun included.

The time has come, and Doyoung is finally ready.

♘

The Northern prince spends his last night as an unmarried man enjoying dinner with Johnny, who acts more neurotic than Doyoung himself.

“You shouldn’t have allowed Jaehyun to pick hyacinths for the centerpieces.” The guard’s frown deepens as his eyes skim over the list of decorations. “I suspect you had a small allergic reaction when we rode through the Middlelands—”

“Johnny,” Doyoung interrupts him with amusement. “I’m not allergic to hyacinths. And this wedding is as much Jaehyun’s as it is mine. If he wants hyacinths then we’ll have hyacinths.” He stabs a slice of tomato with his fork. “Besides, he has better taste in flowers.”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “Purple flowers are pretentious.”

“Purple flowers are purple flowers,” Doyoung snorts. “Why are you so skittish about this? It’s my wedding, not yours.”

The tall man pauses to think his answer, and his eyes darken as a million different thoughts go through his head. “It feels surreal,” he finally speaks. “I’ve been by your side since you first discovered your fate as future Prince consort of the South. You came here only to fulfill that duty, and yet you’ve also managed to build so many beautiful things. You’ve carved a place for yourself here, a place as _Doyoung_ , not as the Prince consort. This wedding… It feels like the final stamp on a letter, a way to certify that this chapter of our lives—a chapter of uncertainty and dilemma—is finally over.”

“Johnny…”

“I have also found beautiful things here,” the guard continues, his voice a little lighter. “My own reasons to stay, aside from my duty to protect you.”

Doyoung lays his hand on top of Johnny’s on the table. “I know, John. And I’m glad you have.”

Johnny wraps his strong fingers around Doyoung’s. “Are you sure you’re not nervous? In the least bit?”

“Weddings have protocols to follow, and I’ve been preparing for this since the day I was born as the second prince.” All of a sudden, he grimaces, as if something in his dinner plate were sour. “I’m more concerned about what comes next.”

Johnny’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh.”

“Jaehyun is… inexperienced,” Doyoung admits in a whisper.

The guard snickers as quietly as he can. “Yes, I could tell.”

“I’ve never been in this position, where I am the experienced one.” He lets go of Johnny’s hand to scratch the back of his head. “I’m a bit lost. And intimidated.”

“I’m no expert in these things,” Johnny speaks into his glass of wine, “and the last time I was with someone inexperienced was, well, my first time. But I do remember what it felt like, how vulnerable I was.” He sets the glass down. “Jaehyun doesn’t need you to be anything other than gentle and patient.”

Doyoung exhales, slow and heavy. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Not as frequently as you are but yes, this time I _am_.”

The Northern prince shakes his head at his guard’s smug smile, but he’s still grateful for the advice, as simple as it is. Maybe that is the key—trusting the simplicity in life’s most primal acts.

In the distance, the Cathedral’s bells announce the stroke of midnight with loud, musical chimes. Doyoung pushes himself out of his seat, and he leans over the table to press a chaste kiss on Johnny’s cheek.

“I must go now,” he declares, apologetic, but his guard gives him an understanding look.

“Of course. You need to rest; tomorrow will be a long day.”

Doyoung drags himself into his room with tired feet. He changes into his sleepwear absentmindedly, and is about to get in bed when he notices a small envelope resting on his pillow. His name is written on the back with neat and elegant handwriting, which Doyoung can’t recognize. He opens it with curious fingers and pulls the short letter out, unfolding it with care.

_Dear Doyoung,_

_The day has finally come. I am filled with equal dread and excitement, as this event is one that will shape the rest of my life._

_Before we met, when you were only a name in my head, I was terrified of you. I had heard many stories about the North and its men, how they were cold and heartless, and saw marriage as nothing but means to an end. I, who carry myself with pride and strength that are nothing but lies, feared you would break my shamefully delicate heart. And when I first met you, and you looked at me with your glacial stare and frigid demeanor, I thought this would be the case._

_Oh, how wrong I was._

_There is no ice inside you, Doyoung. Only fire. You are passionate and vehement, at times dramatic or even cruel, but it makes you all the more honest. I am composed and proper, always respectful even when I’d rather scream and shout, which makes me a liar._

_Seeing you carry yourself with such integrity and loyalty to who you really are is the most inspiring thing I have ever witnessed. You’ve taught me more in a few months than any of my tutors in the last two decades. I can’t wait for you to teach me every day for the rest of our lives._

_I’m glad it’s you who will stand by my side at the altar tomorrow. There’s no one else I’d rather do this with._

_Soon to be yours,_

_Jaehyun_

Doyoung folds the letter slow and carefully, still processing his betrothed’s words. He has known about Jaehyun’s sensibility and empathetic nature for a while now, but he could have never assumed he was _this_ delicate. The thought of the Crown Prince hunched over his desk as he drags his pen passionately on the paper, writing his beautiful words with Doyoung in mind… It cracks the Northern prince’s heart open.

He places the letter inside the small box on his bedside table, amongst all of his brother’s letters. There’s a metaphor hidden somewhere behind this gesture—how Jaehyun has made his way into a place inside Doyoung where only Gongmyung has ever been before, but the Northern prince chooses to ignore it, and instead he closes his eyes and welcomes sleep in this bed for the last time.


	6. six

The morning of Doyoung’s wedding is, to his surprise, peaceful. He wakes up to the smell of freshly baked sweet buns and oranges. He finds a generous breakfast served on his tea table, accompanied by a small note from the Queen, telling him to eat plenty. Doyoung munches on the buns obediently, staring out his window absentmindedly. But, as expected, his peace is short-lived.

“Rise and shine, Doyoungie,” Taeyong bursts into his room, followed by his now familiar favorite group of maids. “Oh, you’re already awake! Excellent.”

Doyoung puts down his bun and walks towards Taeyong. “My dearest advisor, please don’t give me a headache on the most important day of my life. I must remain glowing for the Crown Prince.”

Taeyong snorts, and he pushes Doyoung into the bathroom by his shoulders. “Don’t make me laugh. And behave! Let our wonderful workers do their job.”

Doyoung resigns himself to being washed by complete strangers again, but he knows that today might not be the best day to throw a tantrum over this issue. Everyone is on edge, and the tension in the air is palpable—even the city seems to have come to a halt, as there is no trace of the usual hustle and bustle.

The maids wrap him in a robe and drag him back into the room, where Taeyong is discussing something with the seamstresses.

“I told you to make the tail shorter!” The advisor reprimands them. “His Highness told you it was too uncomfortable for him!”

“Taeyong,” Doyoung quickly steps in. “It’s fine. It’s just a minor detail.”

The seamstresses bow so deeply they almost fall over. “Your Highness, we are so—”

“I said it’s fine,” the Northern prince cuts them off. He doesn’t have the patience for this today. “Now get to work.”

It takes five maids and the two seamstresses to dress Doyoung. His gown is completely white and comprised of two pieces—waist-high pants and a long pelisse, both tied snugly around his waist, accentuating his natural shape.

“You have such a nice figure, Your Highness,” one of the maids observes as she adjusts the bow. “You’ll make the Crown Prince very happy.”

Doyoung immediately stiffens, his muscles going tense with discomfort. He’d been aware, in the back of his mind, of what most of the Palace’s workers thought of him. He is their heir’s groom, and nothing more. His job is to please Jaehyun and thus, the maids’ job was to help him achieve that goal. Their duty isn’t to him, but always and unconditionally to Jaehyun.

“Right.” He swallows heavily.

A loud knock on the door startles all of them, and Doyoung feels a sting in his back when one of the seamstresses pinches him with a pin.

One of the guards pulls the door open, and Gongmyung storms in, in all his princely glory.

“Brother?” Doyoung gasps, incredulous. After being apart for so long, seeing his older brother in the flesh felt like a very realistic hallucination.

“Doyoungie!” Gongmyung opens his arms, and Doyoung runs across the room to throw himself into his brother’s embrace. The Northern heir picks the younger prince up and spins him around, drawing a surprised laugh out of him. “I missed your smell,” he says into Doyoung’s shoulder.

“My smell?” Doyoung chuckled. “That’s a strange thing to miss.”

Gongmyung pulls away. “It’s just— It’s undeniably yours.” He cups Doyoung’s cheeks with both hands and squeezes as he presses a kiss to the prince’s forehead. “I missed you so much, you smart brat.”

“I missed you more, brother,” Doyoung wraps his fingers around Gongmyung’s wrists and pulls himself out of his brother’s grip.

Gongmyung steps back to look Doyoung up and down, and he spins him around with one hand. “You weren’t lying when you said Southerners don’t spare any expenses. You look ravishing.”

Doyoung blushes slightly, and he slaps Gongmyung’s chest to hide his embarrassment.

“Your Royal Highness,” Taeyong suddenly steps in before bowing respectfully. “It’s such a pleasure to have you here with us on such an important day.”

Doyoung places a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder. “Gongmyung, this is Jaehyun’s advisor and my good friend, Taeyong,” he introduces the small man with a proud smile.

Gongmyung nods at the advisor, smiling kindly. “Thank you for keeping my brother company, and for looking after him. Our family will forever be indebted to you.”

“Don’t be dramatic, brother,” Doyoung rolls his eyes as he walks back to the dressing table, where the hairdressers and cosmeticians get to work.

“I’m not! You are simply too impassive.” Gongmyung takes a seat behind him, on one of the loveseats, and he immediately gets swarmed by maids looking to impress the future King of the North.

The cosmetician covers Doyoung’s face in powder that makes him appear unblemished, and she taints his lips in a faint red color that enhanced their unique heart shape. Meanwhile, the barber styles his hair in soft waves, and he places a carefully crafted flower crown on top of his head. The array of pink and white tones matches the Northern prince’s look perfectly,

“It’s a gift from the Queen,” Taeyong explains, toying with strand of Doyoung’s hair. “She made them herself.”

“ _Them_?”

Taeyong winks. “You’ll see.”

Once the two stylists deem him ready, Doyoung pushes himself out of his seat, and one of the seamstresses helps him straighten the back of his pelisse. Johnny walks into the room, dressed in the finest uniform Doyoung has ever seen him in. He gives Doyoung a silent look, but the prince understands in an instant—it’s time.

“We must leave now!” Taeyong chases all of the servants away, hysterical.

“But Father hasn’t arrived yet!” Doyoung begins to panic.

“Father?” Gongmyung walks up to him. “What business do you have with him now of all times?”

Doyoung gives him an exasperated glare. “Who else is supposed to walk me down the aisle?”

Gongmyung slaps the back of his neck, and a few of the servants gasp audibly at this, but Doyoung only hisses and rubs the reddening area. “Me, you dimwit. Why else would I climb all those stairs up to this disturbingly big room?”

Doyoung gapes at him. “But— I thought— It’s tradition!”

His older brother chuckles, and he offers an arm for Doyoung to wrap his hand around. “He asked me to take his place. He thought it would make you happier if I was the one to give you away.”

The younger prince gulps, and he tightens his grip on his brother’s arm unconsciously. “Yes, I suppose he’s right.”

“Are you ready, Your Highness?” Taeyong asks, his wide eyes shimmering with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

Doyoung sighs, and he takes hold of his long garments. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Gongmyung holds Doyoung’s hand in his for the entire carriage ride. The younger prince examines their intertwined fingers. His older brother is wearing the item that marked him as the heir to the throne of the North—their family ring, a silver piece with their crest carefully engraved. The King gifted it to him for his coming of age ceremony. Doyoung, the second prince, got a new cape for his.

“Has it sunk in yet?” Gongmyung asks out of nowhere as they approach the city center.

“What has?” Doyoung frowns, confused.

“Reality,” the Northern heir simply answers.

Doyoung deflates in his seat. “I don’t think it will for a while.”

Gongmyung gives him a playful shove. “Until the honeymoon, hopefully.”

“Shut the hell up,” the younger prince hisses, mortified.

The carriage finally comes to a halt, and with it so does Doyoung’s heart. He has been hiding behind his usual strong facade, but the truth is _he’s terrified_.

The door opens and Johnny helps both princes out.

_He’s terrified of what the future holds, of what his life is about to become._

The square is hauntingly empty, not a single soul in sight.

_He’s terrified of becoming the Prince consort, of having to stand beside the King of the South for the rest of his life._

The guards escort the two princes to the massive gates that lead into the Cathedral.

_He’s terrified of love._

Taeyong holds a hand up as the guards move to push the gates open, and they all stop in their tracks. He looks at Doyoung with a gentle, understanding smile.

He remembers Jaehyun’s words. _There’s no one else I’d rather do this with_.

Doyoung nods, and Taeyong lowers his hand. The gates open.

The crowd inside is bigger than Doyoung could have ever expected. He examines their faces as a way to distract himself as Gongmyung walks him down the aisle and, surprisingly, he can recognize most of them. Southern nobility and aristocracy watch him with judgmental eyes as he advances with confident steps. A small group of auburn heads and kind, reassuring smiles stands on his right, Queen Yuna amongst them—Jaehyun’s family from the Middle Lands.

At the end of the aisle, nearest to the altar, are the King and Queen of the North. Dressed in all black, Doyoung’s parents follow his movements with proud eyes. His father looks at him as if he had never really seen him before. His mother, however, avoids his eyes as she turns to stare at the cleric instead.

Lastly, Doyoung’s gaze finally lands on Jaehyun. The Crown Prince is wearing a white suit, made of the same fabric as his groom’s to match him perfectly. The flower crown on his head is also a twin, but in blue and purple tones.

Jaehyun looks at Doyoung with the deepest, most beautiful eyes the Northern Prince has ever seen. They hold a million lives to come, an endless cluster of possibilities, and suddenly Doyoung is not so scared of the future anymore. Not if Jaehyun will be with him.

Gongmyung takes his brother’s hand and places it on top of the Crown Prince’s palm with care. He and Jaehyun share a respectful silent greeting before the Northern heir leaves, taking a seat beside the rest of his family.

Jaehyun’s fingers wrap themselves around Doyoung’s, and he pulls his groom closer so they both stand at the same level. The Crown Prince presses a tender kiss on the back of Doyoung’s hand.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest begins his speech, and his voice sounds far away in Doyoung’s ears, “we are gathered here today to unite these two people in matrimony.”

All the guests behind them finally sit down, while the two princes remain upright.

“Prince Jaehyun,” the priest addresses the Crown Prince with a firm voice, “do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all other, as long as you shall live?”

Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate. “I do.”

“Prince Doyoung,” the priest then turns to him, and it’s as if he can look right into the Northern prince’s soul, “do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all other, as long as you shall live?”

Doyoung gulps and his grip on Jaehyun’s arm tightens. His silence lasts barely a fraction of a second, but he can feel the Crown Prince’s muscle tense. “I do,” he answers, and Jaehyun instantly relaxes.

“Very well,” the priest smiles. “Now, repeat after me.” He recites their vows with the fluidity of someone who has been repeating the same words over and over for years, and while it should bother Doyoung, this slight depersonalization makes the whole experience a little less overwhelming.

Jaehyun faces him with a shy grin, and he holds both of Doyoung’s hands in his. “I, Jaehyun, take you Doyoung, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

Doyoung tries to return Jaehyun’s smile, and the Southern prince rubs his knuckles with the pad of his thumb in comforting circles. “I, Doyoung, take you Jaehyun, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

 _Until death do us part_. Doyoung feels slightly dizzy.

Donghyuck walks towards them with a small box in his hands. He’s dressed in a soft yellow robe, and there’s another blue flower clipped to his curls. He winks at Doyoung as he unlocks the box, exposing its contents to the two princes. Jaehyun extends his hand and he holds the ring delicately.

“I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love,” he says as he places the ring on Doyoung’s finger. The light gold color barely contrasts against the Northern prince’s pale skin.

Doyoung takes the other ring from Donghyuck, who shuts the box and walks back to his seat after bowing.

“I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love,” Doyoung repeats, sliding the ring on Jaehyun’s long finger. Something twists in Doyoung’s stomach at the sight— _his_ ring, with _his_ name carved on the inside, is now resting on Jaehyun’s finger, and it looks… right. It fits perfectly.

“By the virtue of authority vested in me under the laws of the Southern Kingdom, I now pronounce you legally wed. You may seal your union with a kiss.”

With the same hand that now wears the ring, Jaehyun caresses Doyoung’s jaw and starts to lean in, his eyes half closed already. Doyoung shuts his as well, and he braces himself for Jaehyun’s touch. The Crown Prince’s lips land on the corner of his mouth, where he presses a quiet kiss. Doyoung steps back to look into his husband’s eyes as the crowd erupts in cheers. _His husband_. Somehow that title isn’t as burdening when attached to Jaehyun’s dimpled smile and flushed cheeks, and Doyoung finds himself laughing as well.

Donghyuck showers them with hugs and kisses and then petals, which cascade over the two princes as they make their way out of the Cathedral. A rose petal gets stuck in Doyoung’s hair, and Jaehyun removes it with care, eyes full of affection.

Doyoung can barely process the rest of the day. As planned, they all share a banquet in the Gardens, sat around that massive table. However, it doesn’t take long before the orchestra starts playing more upbeat songs, and the guests leave their seats to dance and share a few drinks.

“Would you like to dance?” Jaehyun asks Doyoung from his seat next to the Northern prince.

Doyoung shakes his head before taking a large sip of his champagne. “It’s the last thing I want to do.”

Jaehyun’s shoulders sag with relief. “Good, me neither.”

Doyoung raises a curious eyebrow at his husband. “Why would you ask me then?”

The Crown Prince shrugs. “I would have danced if you wanted me to.”

Doyoung hides his blush behind his glass. Despite being clumsy and inexperienced, Jaehyun has a way with words that makes Doyoung’s nervous ends tingle.

“My two favorite princes,” a warm female voice says behind them. Queen Yuna wraps her arms around both boys and moves to stand between them. “Don’t tell Donghyuck I said that,” she snickers, and Doyoung can tell she’s a little tipsy. Jaehyun doesn’t seem too worried, though, and he looks at his mother, full of love and gratitude.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Jaehyun teases her.

“And you don’t,” she retorts, just as sharp as her youngest son. “You should greet your guests,” she tells them, and it isn’t a request. “Don’t let the South be known for anything other than hospitality.”

Jaehyun stands up, ever the obedient son, and he offers Doyoung a hand, which the Northern prince takes gladly. Hand in hand, they walk through the crowd, chatting casually with some of their guests and thanking them for their visit.

“Jaehyunnie! Doyoungie!” The impertinent heir to Imperial throne of the Red Islands sings their names, and Doyoung tries not to scowl too hard when the other prince wraps his arms around both of them.

“Yuta,” the Crown Prince smirks at the sight of his old friend, and a bit of Doyoung’s annoyance dissipates. “It’s good to see you.”

“Oh, please. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Yuta snorts. “You look beautiful, both of you.” He winks at Doyoung.

“I cannot believe you’re trying to flirt with a couple of newlyweds,” another voice buts in. It belongs to a young man, tall and lean and the exact shade of pretty that men like Yuta enjoy ruining. “Right in front of me, no less.”

Yuta wraps an arm around the man’s waist before pressing a kiss on his temple. “You know perfectly well that wasn’t me flirting.” He turns to address the two princes again, who are staring at him, unimpressed. “Jaehyun, Doyoung, this is my partner, Jungwoo.” The young man, Jungwoo, bows deeply before them, in the way a commoner would.

“No title?” Doyoung quirks an eyebrow, surprised.

Yuta grins too devilishly for Doyoung’s liking. “A man like Jungwoo doesn’t need one.”

“Right,” Jaehyun coughs, interrupting Yuta before he can delve too deep into his relationship with Jungwoo. From the corner of his eye, Doyoung spots his family, who have isolated themselves in a small circle. He squeezes Jaehyun’s hand to get his attention, and points towards the Northern royals with his head. “We must leave you now, I’m afraid,” Jaehyun apologizes, “but do visit this Summer!”

Yuta rolls his eyes, and he raises his glass at them as they walk away, his arm still comfortably wrapped around Jungwoo’s frame.

Doyoung feels himself grow tenser as they approach his family, and Jaehyun must feel it as well, because he lets go of his hand in favor of sliding his hand around Doyoung’s waist. In any other situation, this might have made the Northern prince uncomfortable, but the warmth radiating from Jaehyun’s body manages to sooth him.

His mother’s eyes land on them, and they turn cold and judgmental. It had been naive of Doyoung to expect anything else, but after finally fulfilling this duty she imposed on him he hoped she would be a little bit more grateful. After all, the ring on Doyoung’s finger translates into the money that will save the North from extinction.

“Dongyoung,” she says dryly, the glass in her hand completely full.

“Mother, Father, thank you for coming,” Doyoung thanks them with a tilt of his head. “I’d like to introduce you to my husband, Prince Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun bows before the two monarchs. “It’s an honor to have you here in the South, Your Majesties. I hope you’ll find our country suitable enough for your son.”

“It’s a wonderful country,” the King, ever so polite, comments. “Although I have no clue how you can survive in this heat.”

Doyoung nods. “It’s shocking at first, but you get used to it.”

Gongmyung pinches his brother’s cheek, and the younger prince lets out a small screech. “I can’t believe little Doyoungie is now a married man.” Doyoung shoves him with one hand as he rubs his stinging face with the other. Their mother scowls, not-so-discreetly. “And you got so lucky, brother. Jaehyun is even more handsome than your letter promised him to be.”

Beside him, Jaehyun goes rigid at the mention of his name, and his ears turn a vibrant red once he understands what Gongmyung’s words imply, a color that matches Doyoung’s cheeks.

“I— well, thank you,” the Crown Prince chuckles nervously.

“Speaking of,” Doyoung quickly tries to divert the conversation. “Where is Princess Seolhee?”

Gongmyung rubs the back of his neck. “She was feeling too unwell for the long trip, I’m afraid. But she sends her regards and she wishes you both the best.”

“Oh,” Doyoung breathes out. Now isn’t the time nor the place, but he’ll have to ask his brother again. He knows how much the princess means to him and how well their relationship progressed after their wedding—if anything were to happen to her, it would break Gongmyung’s heart. “I hope she recovers quickly, brother. Do keep me updated.”

“Of course,” the older prince replies, grateful for his brother’s concern.

“I’m sure we could find a date to visit the North,” Jaehyun informs them casually.

Doyoung’s eyes widen. “We could?” The Northern prince has never been too attached to his homeland, but he still can’t help but feel a little homesick. The prospect of seeing his snow-covered mountains again, as well as sharing it with Jaehyun, warms his insides.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t,” Jaehyun shrugs. “Diplomatic travels are always a great excuse.”

Doyoung lets out a soft chuckle, and he leans a little closer to his husband. It’s an unconscious gesture, albeit one that doesn’t go unnoticed by his family. Gongmyung stifles a laugh, and he pats his brother’s shoulder.

“I think we will go rest now. We have a long journey back home ahead of us.”

“Of course,” Doyoung understands, but he regrets not being able to spend more time with his brother. They share a long, tight hug, and then Gongmyung shakes Jaehyun’s hand fervently. It’s a shocking sight, perhaps even historical, seeing two Crown Princes interact like this. And it’s all because of Doyoung—he’s the thread that ties two kingdoms together.

The Northern Royal Family retire after that, not before sharing a few words with Queen Yuna as well. Doyoung doesn’t see the King of the South anywhere, but he has no energy left to worry about absent fathers and monarchs. He drops himself on a chair, rubbing his temples in an attempt to prevent his incoming headache.

“Are you alright?” Jaehyun asks as he lays a hand on the back of Doyoung’s neck.

“Just tired,” Doyoung answers. “It’s been a tedious day.”

“Or week,” the Crown Prince sighs, and he grabs a chair to place it next to Doyoung, where he takes a seat. “If you want, we can go to bed,” he says, avoiding his husband’s eyes.

 _We_. Of course, how could Doyoung forget. As a married couple, they’re expected to share a bed, if not for the rest of their lives, then at least for this first night. They’re lives are now intertwined even when it comes to the smallest details. Doyoung thinks about seeing Jaehyun’s sleeping face next to his as he wakes up.

...Perhaps these details aren’t as small as he initially thought.

“That would be great,” he finally gives in to his exhaustion. “I don’t think I can tolerate more small talk.”

Jaehyun snickers. “Don’t worry, I think our guests are too drunk to notice our absence.” He points at Taeyong and Johnny, who are sharing what Doyoung guesses started as a dance and is now nothing more than a drunken sway. Jaehyun pushes himself out of his seat, and he helps Doyoung up as well. “Let’s go.”

As the Crown Prince predicted, no one spares them a single glance as they leave the Garden and step into the chilly interior. Hand in hand, they walk through the Palace, and Jaehyun guffaws as he drags a tired and whiny Doyoung up the stairs. Once they reach their corridor, the Northern prince almost takes the wrong turn to go into his room, but his husband pulls his hand, bringing him back to reality.

Jaehyun’s room is just as Doyoung remembers, except it has been spruced up to fit the occasion with white lace decorations and soft-scented candles. The Crown Prince lets go of his husband’s hand to shrug off his jacket and kick off his boots, and Doyoung mimics him, getting rid of his heavy garments.

“So,” Jaehyun calls Doyoung’s attention with a tiny, shy voice. “How do you want to do this?”

Doyoung frowns. “Do what?”

“Don’t mock me,” Jaehyun mumbles, and Doyoung finally notices his hand, toying with the top button on his shirt.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” Doyoung quickly walks up to the Crown prince, wrapping his hands around his husband’s flushed face.

“I…” Jaehyun trails off and takes a deep breath. “I’ve never done this before. I’d rather get it over with as soon as possible.”

Doyoung shakes his head, and he forces Jaehyun to look at him in the eye. “This isn’t something you can just _get over with_. It’s supposed to be enjoyable for both of us,” he explains, a little patronizing, just so it’ll be engraved in Jaehyun’s brain. “I will never lay a single finger on you if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Jaehyun’s eyes shine with unshed tears, and he relaxes a little in Doyoung’s arms. “I thought you would want to…” he grimaces, omitting the words. “Tonight.”

“It’s not that I don’t find you desirable,” Doyoung says, thinking of Jaehyun’s rosy skin and plump lips against his. “But I find no pleasure in forcing you.” He brushes a few strands of hair off Jaehyun’s forehead. “I want you to enjoy it as well, once you’re ready.”

The Crown Prince nods in understanding.

“Jaehyun, are you ready?” Doyoung asks with a firm tone.

Jaehyun remains silent for a few seconds, and then he deflates. “No, I’m not.”

Doyoung presses his lips to his husband’s forehead. “Then let us sleep.”

The Crown Prince nods, and he steps out of Doyoung’s grip before walking to his dresser and pulling out his sleepwear, as well as his husband’s. Doyoung doesn’t have the energy to wonder how his clothes ended up in Jaehyun’s dresser.

“I’ll go change in the bathroom,” Jaehyun tells him, still as red as one of his mother’s flowers. “You can do it here.”

Doyoung gives him a comforting smile, and he waits until the Crown Prince has retreated into his bathroom to start changing. He’s not too shy about nudity, but he fears the other prince might faint if he catches a glimpse of Doyoung’s skin tonight.

It doesn’t take too long for Jaehyun to come back into the room, dressed in his nightwear, his hair down and barefaced. He looks so endearing, like the young man that he actually is behind his title, and Doyoung’s stomach flips.

“My bathroom is yours now,” Jaehyun explains as he gets into bed. “There are cleansing oils inside, and all of your towels have been brought in.”

Doyoung nods, and he walks into the bathroom, ready to get rid of all the layers of cosmetics. He washes his face fervently, using his towel to rub the powders off of his face. Once he’s done, and he drops the towel into the skin, he is greeted by his own face in the mirror.

He takes a long pause to examine himself, his features, his flaws. They all belong to the Southern Crown now, he realizes.

“You’re the future Prince consort of the South,” he whispers to himself, as if that would somehow make it more believable. Johnny was right, this whole thing _is_ surreal.

Doyoung gives up on trying to understand what his life is about to become, and he shuffles back into the room, where Jaehyun has already blown out all of the candles and is comfortably tucked in bed.

He slides into his designated side of the bed, trying to disturb the Crown Prince as little as possible. Jaehyun’s back faces him, and his breathing has become slow-paced and deep. Doyoung wonders if it’s possible for someone to fall asleep this fast, but he decides to give his husband the benefit of the doubt, and he closes his eyes as well.

Just as he is on the verge of welcoming sleep, Jaehyun’s soft voice rings in his ears.

“Thank you,” he whispers, almost inaudibly, but Doyoung hears it as clear as water.

“Always,” the Northern prince sighs. He wonders what Jaehyun’s tutors might have told him about this first night that made him so anxious, and his blood starts to boil.

“Doyoung,” his husband calls his attention again, “can you embrace me?”

This unexpected request takes him by surprise, but he has no reason to deny it. “Of course,” he complies, turning to lie on his side. He slides one of his hands around Jaehyun’s waist, pressing his front to the Crown Prince’s back and burying his nose in his nape. Jaehyun reacts instantly, scooting even closer to Doyoung and wrapping his fingers around the hand on his waist.

“Goodnight, Jaehyun,” Doyoung mumbles, and his lips brush against Jaehyun’s skin.

“Goodnight, my prince.”


	7. seven

“Rise and shine, Your Royal Grooms!” Donghyuck’s arrogant shouting pulls Doyoung out of his slumber like a slap, and he bolts upright, startling Jaehyun awake as well.

Doyoung hisses venomously. “I swear on your entire family tree and all of its branches, Donghyuck—”

“One of which is in your arms right now, mind you.”

“Hyuckie,” Jaehyun sighs, sweet and soft from sleep. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“Handing you your wedding gift,” Donghyuck explains as he draws the curtains, and Doyoung lets out a loud groan, burying his head in the pillows again.

“Wedding gift?” Jaehyun asks, puzzled but mostly awake already. It seems like the Crown Prince is much fresher in the mornings than Doyoung could ever dream of being. “Just leave it on my tea table.”

“That’s the thing, brother,” Donghyuck winks at them, and a shiver runs down Doyoung’s spine. “It’s not exactly _here_. I need you to come with me.”

Doyoung whines, obnoxiously loud, and he kicks off the covers. “Fine! Let’s do this quick so I can come back to bed.”

“Yeah…” the youngest prince grimaces. “Actually, I need both of you to freshen up and get dressed.”

Jaehyun rubs his face. “You couldn’t wait a couple of days before you started bothering a couple of newlyweds?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “I’m doing this for you. Now get up!”

The two princes quickly change into appropriate clothes and splash their faces clean with water so they can look somewhat presentable. Doyoung trails behind the two brothers with lethargic steps, sleep still clinging to him stubbornly.

“We’re almost there, dearest Doyoung,” Donghyuck smirks at him. “Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to catch up on your sleep later.”

“Why are we at the carport, brother?” Jaehyun frowns.

“You’ll see,” is all Donghyuck replies.

After a short walk, Doyoung and Jaehyun find themselves in front of a carriage, one of the many that the Royal family owns. They stare at each other, equally as baffled.

The Crown Prince scratches the back of his head. “You got us… a carriage?”

Donghyuck tsks. “No, you fool. We got you a honeymoon.” He throws a heavy-looking set of keys at Jaehyun, who catches them miraculously. “The carriage will take you to the docks, where a small ship is waiting for you both.”

“A honey— wh— did you say ship?!” Doyoung trips over his own words, stunned.

“It will only take you a few hours to arrive at the Shelter of Solitude, less than a day.” Donghyuck opens the carriage door for them. “You will find all necessary items such as clothes or food are already waiting for you in the island.”

“I’m sorry, did you say food?” Doyoung asks over his shoulder as he gets pushed into the carriage after Jaehyun.

“Ah, this is the part you’re going to love, my beloved brother in law.” Donghyuck grins. “The Queen believed you would appreciate as much privacy as possible, so the two of you will be completely alone on the island, save for a couple of guards. No cooks, no maids, no hypochondriac advisors, no sexy muscly personal guards…” The youngest prince sighs dreamily. “Really, the best gift either of you could ever receive.”

Doyoung drops himself in his seat, defeated. There’s no point in arguing with Donghyuck, as it would be incredibly disrespectful to the Crown itself to reject such a gift. And, if he’s being completely honest, the prospect of a short vacation in a deserted island sounds better than anything he’s ever done since he left the North.

“Are you okay with this?” Jaehyun asks him discreetly as Donghyuck shuts the door. There’s a small worried frown on his face, and while he does look adorable, it’s not an expression Doyoung wants to see on his husband’s face.

“Yes, I absolutely am,” the Northern prince assures his husband, squeezing his knee with a comforting hand. “It’ll be good for us.”

Jaehyun nods, content, and their carriage takes off.

It doesn’t take long for Doyoung to fall back asleep, lulled by the swaying motions, his head lolling on Jaehyun’s shoulder. He barely registers his husband carrying him into the ship once their carriage arrives at the dock, mumbling a few words of gratitude that make Jaehyun giggle.

The Northern prince wakes up what must be hours later, to the smell of sea salt and the sound of Jaehyun’s fingers on paper.

“What are you reading?” He yawns, and Jaehyun jumps in his seat.

“Oh, you’re awake!” The Crown Prince shuts his book and scoots closer to Doyoung, who is just now realizing that they are, _in fact_ , on a ship’s deck. “It’s one of those terrible novels I bought the other day.”

Doyoung hums in acknowledgement, brushing the sleep out of his eyes. It’s a wonderful day outside, bright and colorful, and the sea is tranquil.

“What’s this ‘Shelter of Solitude’ place?”

Jaehyun sets his book aside. “It’s an ancient complex built by the Red Empire hundreds of years ago. It used to belong to the Imperial Family, but the South reclaimed it after the Independence War. Nowadays it’s mostly abandoned, collecting dust. But I suppose it _is_ a nice spot for a honeymoon. I’m glad Donghyuck picked it.”

“I still can’t believe how daring your brother is,” Doyoung scoffs, still shaken from that rude awakening.

Jaehyun chuckles. “I guess it’s a second prince thing, being so obstinate.”

Doyoung sticks his tongue at him, which makes Jaehyun laugh even harder, and with that the argument is over. The Crown Prince goes back to his book, and Doyoung passes time simply by watching his husband read.

They reach the island right before nightfall. It's smaller than Doyoung was expecting, just big enough to fit the complex and leave a few beaches unaltered.

“Will you be able to find the main building on your own, Your Highness?” The captain asks Jaehyun once the two princes have disembarked.

“Yes!” Jaehyun assures him. “Don’t worry, sir, I know my way around the island.”

The man nods and he retreats into the ship, probably to spend the night before departing the next morning.

“Do you really know how to find this place, or did you lie so you could get rid of him faster?” Doyoung quirks an eyebrow at his husband.

“You have no faith in me,” Jaehyun shakes his head in mock disappointment, and he takes Doyoung’s hand in his. “Come with me, my prince.”

Doyoung obliges, letting Jaehyun lead him through the island until they reach the Shelter of Solitude. The Northern prince is surprised to find that it’s nothing more than a modest group of buildings, built with the finest materials but almost no decorations. It certainly fits what little he knows about the Imperial architectural style—refined, discreet, austere.

Jaehyun unlocks the chain around the main doors with his keys, and he slides them open with both hands. The inside is just as sober as the outside, and Doyoung realizes that Donghyuck wasn’t lying at all when he said it would just be the two princes—they won’t even have the company of a painting on the wall.

The Crown Prince shows his husband around the main building, which Doyoung finds is the one they’ll be spending most of their time in, since it holds both the bedroom and the kitchen. The other two are an old barn and guest house, and there’s also a magnificent garden with a small body of water that Doyoung can’t name.

“I’d like to make dinner tonight, if you’d let me,” Jaehyun tells him, already rolling up his sleeves and looking into the cupboard.

“You cook?” Doyoung asks, genuinely surprised.

“It’s a hobby of mine,” Jaehyun explains as he pulls out different vegetables and places them on a cutting board. “It helps me clear my mind.”

“And are you any good at it?” Doyoung teases him, prodding at his pride.

The Crown Prince laughs, cocky, and he gives Doyoung a daring look over his shoulder. “You’ll see.”

Doyoung gives him a little smirk in return, and Jaehyun goes back to cutting a piece of celery with confident hands. The Northern prince cranes his neck to examine the room before approaching his husband again, placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Do you mind if I take a bath while you finish cooking? I’d like to get rid of the salty smell.”

Jaehyun grimaces. “Listen, when I said this place was ancient… I meant it.”

Doyoung frowns. “What does that have to do with me taking a bath?”

“The only bath you’ll find in the entire complex is outside.” Jaehyun points to the garden with his head.

Doyoung’s eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up, incredulous. “You mean that tiny lake?”

The Crown Prince gives him an apologetic look. “They’re thermal waters, but yes, I’m afraid that’s the only place you’ll be able to get yourself clean in on the whole island.” Then he adds, “and the sea, of course.”

Doyoung stares at his husband like he has just grown a second head. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m afraid I am,” he says without looking up from the cutting board. “You’ll find that the thermal waters are actually excellent, once you get used to being stark naked in the middle of the garden, of course.” He laughs, and his cheeks turn a slight pink.

Doyoung gapes at Jaehyun. He’s at a loss for words, his brain still processing this piece of information. The Crown Prince cackles again at his husband’s shocked expression, and this irritates Doyoung far more than having to bathe in the middle of a garden.

“Well,” he crosses his arms and cocks his head, giving Jaehyun an arrogant look. “It’s true that we should get used to seeing each other naked.”

The effect is almost instantaneous. Jaehyun chokes on his saliva, and his knife slips from his grip, clattering on the floor. “I’m— Uhm!” He tries to compose himself quickly, bending down to pick up the knife. “You’re right!” He squeals and goes back to his vegetables, mortified.

Doyoung rolls his eyes, but he can’t fight the amused smile that appears on his face.

Once Jaehyun recovers from the humiliation, they strike up a conversation easily. Doyoung tells Jaehyun more about his brother as the Crown Prince cooks what looks like a pork and vegetable stew—a typical Northern dish, Doyoung later realizes with a warm heart.

They share dinner comfortably, and Doyoung congratulates Jaehyun on his surprisingly impressive cooking skills. Conversation flows easily between them, since Jaehyun is a great listener and Doyoung _always_ has something to say. They fit, the Northern prince comes to this realization as he chews on a piece of pork, more than he could have ever expected them to.

He traveled to the South with the objective of doing nothing but fulfill his duty. But as he watches Jaehyun munch on his vegetables with those full cheeks and sparkling eyes, Doyoung remembers his brother’s words. _Strength is also learning to love and allowing yourself to be loved_.

Jaehyun passes him a chunk of pork from his own plate once he notices that Doyoung has already finished all of his.

Perhaps learning to love won’t be as difficult of a task as he initially thought.

They go to bed soon after that. Doyoung decides that he’ll bathe sometime tomorrow, when Jaehyun is busy cooking or reading. Jaehyun agrees, ears red as a tomato, and he turns around as Doyoung changes into his sleepwear.

The two princes slide into bed, each on the same side as the night before. It’s nothing more than a small detail, but Doyoung’s heart flutters at the thought of him and his husband already having assigned sides of the bed.

Doyoung turns to lie on his side, facing Jaehyun, and he lets out a tiny gasp of surprise when his husband does the same thing. The Crown Prince examines his face with piercing eyes, and they fall shamelessly on his lips. In an uncharacteristic show of boldness, Jaehyun leans in, capturing Doyoung’s lips with his own. Doyoung returns the kiss with softness, parting after a few seconds. The Crown Prince looks up at him with a gentle smile, and he buries himself in Doyoung’s arms, hiding his face in the crook of his husband’s neck. Taken aback, Doyoung wraps his arms around Jaehyun tentatively, but it only takes him a few minutes to relax as well, comforted by the warmth of his husband in his arms.

♘

Doyoung wakes up to the feeling of something missing. He’s cold, and the linen sheets barely cover him.

As he sits up and scratches the sleep out of his eyes, he quickly notices that what’s missing is Jaehyun. His side of the bed is empty and cold, which means that he got up a while ago already.

The unmistakable sound of cooking tells Doyoung that Jaehyun is in the kitchen, most likely making breakfast. The sliding door to his left—that he had assumed to be just a wall last night—is slightly open, allowing the chilly morning wind into the room. Doyoung pushes himself out of bed with a whine, and he shuffles to the door, hugging his body. Just as he’s about to close it, he notices a cloud of smoke coming from the garden. Baffled, he peeks his head out.

The source of the smoke is none other than the dreaded thermal waters, still in the same spot as yesterday, but a little less intimidating. Doyoung can’t deny that the clear, warm water looks inviting, and he still feels tacky and dirty from their trip. A loud metallic noise from the kitchen startles Doyoung out of his thoughts, clearing his mind.

If Jaehyun is busy then there should be no problem with him taking a bath, right?

The Northern prince walks back into the room, and he digs into the chest where their clothes were stored. He finds a towel and quickly undresses, wrapping the towel around his waist.

The air outside is harsh against his skin, and he tiptoes through the garden until he reaches the thermal water. Hesitant, he dips his fingers into the water. The temperature is almost perfect, and Doyoung lets out a sigh of relief before pulling the towel off and stepping into the water.

He scrubs himself slowly and meticulously, taking the time to massage the knots in his neck and shoulders. The situation reminds him of his first day in palace, how he had washed himself in that bathtub that had seemed so luxurious back then and has now become another aspect of his daily life. It’s funny how fast life can change, how he was a prince of the North two days ago and he now belongs to the South, or how distant Jaehyun used to be and how lovely he is now. Change is terrifying, but it gives Doyoung hope.

He submerges his head for a few seconds before emerging again, using the water to rub his face and hair clean. In the background, he can hear Jaehyun starting to clean up, which means breakfast will be done soon. Doyoung steps out of the water, bending down to grab the towel. He dries his hair energetically as he walks back into the bedroom, leaving a water trail behind himself.

“Doyoung! I made break—” Jaehyun walks into the room without warning, and he stops in his tracks at the sight of Doyoung’s naked body, dropping the plate of food he was holding.

Time stops as they stare at each other in shock. Not a single muscle in Jaehyun’s body moves an inch, except for his eyes, which rake Doyoung up and down shamelessly. Doyoung isn’t much better—he gapes at his husband like a fish out of water.

All of a sudden, Jaehyun snaps out of his reverie, and he quickly bends down to pick up the broken shards.

“Jaehyun, I—” Doyoung tries to help, but the Crown Prince raises a firm hand that makes him back down.

“That’s okay!” He yelps without looking up. “I’ll clean this up while you get dressed!” It’s not a request or an order, but a plea. Doyoung is more than happy to oblige, and he runs to the chest to pull out a change of clothes that he throws on at a desperate speed.

Jaehyun rises from the floor, his hands full of ruined food and broken pieces of a plate, and he breathes out in relief when his eyes fall on Doyoung’s clothed form. “Don’t worry,” he says, still a little panicked and ears beet red. “This is only a plate, and there’s more food in the kitchen!”

Doyoung nods, muscles stiff with tension. He follows Jaehyun into the kitchen, where they serve themselves another breakfast plate, and they sit on the table to eat in total silence.

“I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun breaks down once the silence becomes unbearable, as if his thoughts weren’t loud enough already.

Doyoung shakes his head, but his face is also tainted pink. “Don’t be sorry, it was an accident.”

“I should have knocked,” the Crown Prince chides himself, slapping his forehead. “It was rude of me to walk in like that.”

“Jaehyun, it’s your room as well.” Doyoung clasps his hand on top of Jaehyun’s on the table. “I promise you, it’s okay.”

Jaehyun nods and he goes back to his food. Once again, they fall into silence, this time a little less tense, but still deafening.

“Your body is nice,” Jaehyun mumbles, out of nowhere. “Your chest and thighs… Yeah.” He shuts his mouth again once he realizes that he might have said too much.

Doyoung chuckles, both amused and flattered. “Thank you.”

The rest of the day goes by faster than Doyoung realizes, and after hours of playing chess and watching Jaehyun as he reads, the evening starts to blend into the night.

Jaehyun shuts his book loudly, and Doyoung looks up from his own novel, which he had only been pretending to read as an excuse to sit next to his husband.

“Would you like to go to the beach?” Jaehyun asks, already pushing himself out of his seat and dropping his book on the table.

“Now?” Doyoung raises his eyebrows. “It’s starting to get dark outside.”

“Have you never been to the beach at night?” Jaehyun takes his hands and pulls him up.

“We don’t exactly have beaches in the North, Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, sarcastic.

“Okay, well,” Jaehyun speaks as he drags his husband out of the house, “all the more reason to go, then.”

The Crown Prince takes Doyoung on a walk through the island. The lack of other people is almost unsettling, and it makes Jaehyun’s presence all the more vivid in Doyoung’s eyes. He understands the purpose of this gift now, so he’ll have to thank the Queen and second prince once they return home.

Jaehyun finds the beach easily, and he urges Doyoung to take off his sandals so he can feel the sand under his feet. It’s strange and itchy, but Doyoung loves it—there’s something freeing about walking around while barefoot. He follows Jaehyun until the other prince drops himself on the sand, patting the spot beside him to signal that he wants Doyoung to sit there. The Northern prince obeys, and he takes a seat next to his husband on the sand. Before them, the water turns black, reflecting the dark night sky.

“I love the sea,” Jaehyun breathes out. “It’s so… limitless.” Doyoung remains silent, waiting for him to continue. “When I’m feeling particularly trapped, and the Crown rests too heavy on my shoulders, I like to walk out into my balcony. Looking at the endless sea gives me perspective,” he explains, and the wind ruffles his soft hair. He looks young and tender, but at the same time the look in his eyes is wise and profound.

Doyoung finally sees Jaehyun as what he really is—a boy who was forced to become a man too soon.

“It gives me perspective,” Jaehyun continues, staring deep into the sea. “It makes me realize just how insignificant we all are in this vast world.”

“That’s what the mountains mean to me as well,” Doyoung confesses, playing with a handful of sand. “When I turned 20, my father and brother took me to the highest peak in our entire country. It’s extremely dangerous and risky, so it became a tradition amongst the Royal Family to climb it as a rite of passage. When I stood there and watched our entire capital city under me, while I was in the clouds… The feeling is indescribable. I felt like a God and an ant at the same time.”

Jaehyun smiles at the allegory, and he bumps his knee against Doyoung’s before leaning back and laying his head on the sand. Doyoung watches him for a few seconds, wondering just how much of a nightmare getting the sand out of his hair will be, and then he shrugs. Under him, the sand feels harder than he expected, and the crunching sounds dig into his ears. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind, and he looks up to the sky with glittering eyes.

“The stars are brighter than ever tonight,” he observes dreamily. “Or maybe my eyes are just different.”

“Marriage really changed you,” Doyoung jokes, drawing a snort out of his husband.

“Oh, but it did,” Jaehyun says, and he moves to lie on his side, resting his head on his hand so he can look down at Doyoung. He stares silently for a while, and Doyoung lets him, glowing under his husband’s attention. “Can I kiss you?” He finally asks, and Doyoung laughs softly.

“You don’t need to ask,” Doyoung answers as he places a hand on Jaehyun’s nape, slowly pulling him down. “And yes, please.”

Jaehyun’s lips clash against his with force and hunger, and he licks into Doyoung’s mouth gentle but persistently. Despite his inexperience, Jaehyun is naturally good at this, as well as an enthusiastic learner. He follows Doyoung’s lead, allowing the Northern prince’s tongue into his mouth obediently. Doyoung nips at his lower lip with his teeth, and Jaehyun lets out a tiny mewl that sends a shiver down Doyoung’s spine. He pushes the Crown Prince to lie on his back again, positioning himself on top of him. Jaehyun quickly reconnects their lips, wrapping his arms around Doyoung’s neck. He sighs into Doyoung’s mouth as the other prince presses him down into the sand and lets out a sharp gasp when his husband leaves his lips and start nibbling under his jaw and chin. Doyoung presses wet, open mouthed kisses on Jaehyun’s neck, and he caresses the Crown Prince’s side with a persistent hand. He returns to Jaehyun’s lips as his hand trails up the young prince’s chest until his fingers find the top button of Jaehyun’s shirt.

“I wanted to thank you,” he says against Jaehyun’s lips as he unfastens the first two buttons.

“For what?” Jaehyun sighs, barely coherent.

“Your letter,” Doyoung murmurs before sucking gently on Jaehyun’s neck. “It really touched me.”

“I— ah! I’m glad you liked it,” the Crown Prince gasps when his husband starts to nibble on his chest.

Doyoung rakes his hand up and down Jaehyun’s torso, when his thumb flicks the other prince’s nipple accidentally. Jaehyun lets out a sharp moan, and his back arches in pleasure. His growing erection brushes against Doyoung’s thigh, and he groans, frustrated.

“Doyoung,” the Crown Prince whines, and it’s a question.

“Go ahead, Jaehyun,” Doyoung answers.

Jaehyun ruts against Doyoung’s leg desperately. His blush extends over his neck and chest, turning him a rosy color. He’s the most desirable thing Doyoung has ever seen.

Jaehyun’s moans become higher and wetter as Doyoung presses back against him. He’s close, Doyoung realizes, if the way he bites on his lower lip with almost too much force means anything. The Northern prince unbuttons the rest of Jaehyun’s shirt, admiring his husband’s beauty with his lips and teeth. He wraps his mouth around Jaehyun’s nipple, flicking the nub with his tongue, and the effect is almost instant. Jaehyun stills in Doyoung’s arms, and he comes with a muffled cry, biting so hard on his lip that he draws a bit of blood.

Doyoung caresses his husband’s soft cheek as he comes down from his high, both physically and emotionally. “Are you alright?” He whispers, voice as gentle as his touch.

Jaehyun nods, and he leans into Doyoung’s hand. “Just tired,” he mumbles groggily.

Doyoung snorts, amused, and he presses a kiss on Jaehyun’s dimple. “Let’s get you to bed then.”

“What about you?” Jaehyun gives him a worried look as he lets Doyoung pull him up.

Doyoung shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me,” he says as he intertwines their fingers. “Not yet.”

♘

Neither of them mentions the events of that night for the next couple of days, but it’s obvious that something has shifted between them.

Jaehyun becomes bolder, almost impatient, and he takes any and every opportunity to tantalize Doyoung. Unfortunately, he quickly finds out just how strong-willed Northern men can be, as Doyoung barely blinks when Jaehyun starts parading around the living room shirtless or presses his hips a little too hard against his husband’s when they snuggle in bed.

Doyoung finds it all very amusing. It’s evident that that first night changed something inside Jaehyun, uncapped a hidden side of him. Still, the Northern prince believes it’s best to wait, at least until his husband becomes desperate enough to voice his desire instead of teasing Doyoung until he snaps. It’s entertaining, watching the competent Crown Prince of the South make a fool of himself like this, chasing his husband so dramatically. The fact that Doyoung is the only one who gets to see this side of Jaehyun makes the Northern prince dizzy, and he has to convince himself to hold back for just a little longer.

“Doyoung!” Jaehyun calls him from the garden while he’s busy making dinner. He already knows how this will go, so he puts the utensils down and walks out of the house to meet his husband.

As expected, he finds Jaehyun inside the thermal waters, his head peeking out of the water, a cheeky smile on his face. Doyoung sighs, and he tells himself to calm down as he approaches the steaming water.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asks as he crouches down to meet Jaehyun. The nickname works instantly, as it had the last couple of times he had used it—it’s his way of getting back at his husband for the torture.

Jaehyun’s cheeks light up, and he buries himself a little deeper into the water. “Can you help me wash the sand out of my hair?”

Doyoung smiles, sharp and wicked. “Of course,” he says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Turn around.”

Jaehyun obliges, and he rises a little so Doyoung will have access to the back of his head. Doyoung cups some water in his fist and he pours it on Jaehyun’s hair, threading his fingers through the strands to brush the sand off. The Crown Prince hums and leans into his husband’s touch, pulling an amused laugh out of Doyoung. He massages Jaehyun’s scalp until he notices the young prince start to doze off, and then he pulls away, not before pressing a kiss on the top of Jaehyun’s head.

“Dinner will be ready in a short while,” Doyoung tells the Crown Prince as he stands up, and from this position he can see nearly everything through the clear water.

Jaehyun nods, his ears tainted red. “I’ll go get dressed,” he says, and Doyoung turns around before Jaehyun’s gets a chance to prove his words in front of him.

♘

The next time they decide to walk to the beach, Jaehyun finds a note on his doorstep, which he presumes was left by one of the secretive guards that protect the island. It’s from the Queen, and it informs them that they have two days left on the Shelter of Solitude before a ship will depart towards the island to send them back home.

Jaehyun sulks for the entire walk, and he crosses his arms on his chest as he sits down on the sand. They make a much different picture than the last time they visited the same spot, with Jaehyun’s upset frown and Doyoung’s awkward tension.

“What has you so blue, love?” Doyoung asks, bumping his shoulder against Jaehyun’s.

Jaehyun sighs. “I don’t want to leave, not yet.”

Doyoung caresses Jaehyun’s ear affectionately, pinching the lobe with two fingers. “All good things come to an end, eventually.” He tucks a strand of hair behind the Crown Prince’s ear. “There’s nothing we can do except enjoy it as it lasts.”

Jaehyun scoots closer to Doyoung, laying his head on his husband’s shoulder. “Don’t you get tired of always being right?”

Doyoung laughs, and he drapes an arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders. “Not particularly, no.”

They remain in each other’s arms for a long while, simply enjoying the intimacy. Doyoung knows they won’t get to relive this anytime soon, and he breathes in the salty scent of Jaehyun’s hair, pulling him even closer.

A tall wave reaches the shore with force enough force that the water reaches the two princes, wetting their feet. Jaehyun detaches himself from Doyoung, and he pushes himself up slowly, patting the sand off of his hands.

“I haven’t swum in the sea in years,” he thinks aloud. Seconds later, he’s undressing before Doyoung’s eyes, carelessly throwing his clothes away until he’s completely bare. Doyoung watches him, petrified—those endless legs, toned chest and slim waist. He’s breathtaking, there’s no other word for it. He turns around to look at Doyoung, arching a cocky eyebrow. “Are you coming?” He says, daring.

Doyoung blinks once, twice. “Into the sea… naked?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but there’s a satisfied smirk on his face. “I’ll see you later, then,” he winks, and then jogs towards the water.

The sight of Jaehyun jumping into the waves snaps Doyoung out of his daze, and he scrambles to his feet, pulling his clothes off, hurried and messily. He runs after Jaehyun, who lets out a throaty laugh when he spots Doyoung’s pale Northern body sinking into the freezing water.

“Fucking hell!” Doyoung curses, shaking his limbs underwater in an attempt to warm up.

“Come on, you big Northern man!” Jaehyun giggles. He’s smiling so hard that his dimples are on full display. “You can’t endure a little cold water?”

Doyoung splashes his husband’s face childishly, and Jaehyun lets out a loud shriek that quickly blends into a giggle. “You asked for it, brat!” He barks, and barely gets to finish his sentence before Jaehyun fights back, soaking Doyoung in a gush of water that gets into his mouth, salting his tongue. “Ugh! This is disgusting!”

Jaehyun’s laughs only get higher, like the competitive punk that he really is under his Crown Prince mask. Doyoung swims towards him, chasing him with clumsy limbs. Jaehyun dodges him with ease, but he eventually allows himself to be caught. He lets out a loud yelp as Doyoung wraps him in a tight grip, digging his fingers into the small of Jaehyun’s back.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Doyoung growls, but there’s no malice in it.

Jaehyun grins, enticing. “You love it,” he whispers, close enough for Doyoung to feel his breath on his lips.

Unfortunately, the Crown Prince is right, and Doyoung is but a weak man. He finally smashes his lips against Jaehyun’s, after days of longing. Jaehyun chases his mouth desperately, like a starving man, and he presses his naked body against Doyoung’s.

“Jaehyun, love,” Doyoung pants between kisses. “We’re going to drown.”

“Shore,” Jaehyun simply answers, already dragging Doyoung out of the water. He doesn’t even bother to stand up, instead crawling until he reaches the dry sand. He lies on his back and spreads his legs slightly, inviting Doyoung to join him.

“Fuck, Jaehyun,” the Northern prince breathes out, positioning himself between his husband’s legs.

“Exactly,” Jaehyun replies before pulling Doyoung down to catch his lips again.

They kiss for what feels like hours. Jaehyun runs his hands up and down Doyoung’s back, kneading the flesh of his ass and pushing his hips down so they can brush against each other.

“Doyoung, please,” Jaehyun whines into his husband’s mouth. “I’m ready.”

“No,” the Northern prince immediately answers, making Jaehyun’s eyes widen with hurt. “Not here,” he quickly clarifies, brushing his tongue over Jaehyun’s bottom lip as an apology for his accidental harsh tone.

“Bed?” The Crown Prince asks, and Doyoung nods.

They run back to the house, stopping every few steps to embrace each other again, their clothes forgotten on the beach.

Jaehyun’s wet hair soaks the sheets as he lies down on his back, Doyoung hovering above him. He’s growing more confident by the second, and he wraps a hand around Doyoung, stroking him carefully until the Northern prince gasps sharply when he finds the right pace.

“What do you want, Jaehyun?” Doyoung calls his attention, pulling Jaehyun’s hand off him.

The Crown Prince looks straight into his eyes and says, “I want you to fuck me, my prince.” He kisses Doyoung slowly, as if sealing his request, and then adds, “my husband.”

Doyoung swallows the lump in his throat, overwhelmed by his emotions. The trust in Jaehyun’s voice and eyes is almost too much, and it makes him realize just how delicate the young prince really is. One wrong step and he could scar him for the rest of his life.

“Doyoung.” The Crown Prince cups his husband’s face, forcing him to look into his eyes. “You are not going to hurt me.”

“But I could,” Doyoung tries to argue, but his words are muffled by Jaehyun’s lips on his own.

“You won’t,” Jaehyun assures him, and he wraps his fingers around Doyoung again. “I want this, I want you, so badly,” he moans over his husband’s lips, his hot breath melting all of Doyoung’s worries. “Do you want me?”

Doyoung pushes into Jaehyun’s fist. “Yes,” he breathes out. “Hopelessly.”

The Crown Prince chuckles, and he pulls away from Doyoung. His face and chest are flushed, and he’s covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes his skin glisten under the bright moonlight. Doyoung wants to devour him.

“I trust you,” Jaehyun tells him, and Doyoung can see just how much he means it.

“Thank you,” Doyoung pecks his lips.

He leaves a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses from Jaehyun’s chin to his chest, taking his sweet time to lick and bite on the prince’s nipples. Jaehyun writhes under him, but his arousal grows harder between his legs, and he bucks up, trying to find some release. Doyoung holds his husband’s hips down as he bites and nips under his belly button, right above where Jaehyun wants him most. It’s only after an awfully high-pitched whine that Doyoung wraps his lips around Jaehyun, licking over the tip and sucking lightly.

“Oh, fuck, that feels so good,” he drools, barely coherent.

Doyoung presses a kiss on Jaehyun’s groin. “Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop immediately.” The Crown Prince nods, and Doyoung takes it as his cue to continue.

He covers his fingers in spit, stroking Jaehyun with his free hand as a way to distract him. At the first touch of the tip of Doyoung’s finger over his rim, the prince stiffens, but it doesn’t take him long to relax again with his husband’s hot mouth wrapped around him.

“How does it feel?” Doyoung asks once his finger is all the way inside Jaehyun.

“Strange,” Jaehyun gasps, so flushed. “But not bad.”

Doyoung moves his finger around, looking for that spot inside his husband that will make the night all the more pleasurable for the two of them. He knows he’s found it when Jaehyun downright screams, clenching around Doyoung’s finger and arching his back in surprise.

“What was that?” He chokes, stunned. “Do it again.”

Doyoung chuckles, and he presses his finger down on that spot again, drawing moan after moan out of Jaehyun. The Crown Prince barely notices when that finger becomes two, and then three, and soon enough he’s riding Doyoung’s hand desperately, his cock leaking onto his husband’s tongue. He’s a sight to behold, so caught up in his pleasure that he’s almost forgotten Doyoung is there as well.

“You’re ready,” the Northern prince announces with a kiss on his husband’s lips. Jaehyun nods fervently, and he allows Doyoung to manhandle him into what he knows will be the most comfortable position for Jaehyun.

Doyoung spits into his palm, and he covers himself until he’s wet enough to not hurt his husband. He’ll have to request some oils once they’re back at the Palace, but right now he makes do with what he has.

He kisses all over Jaehyun’s face as he enters him painfully slow. The Crown Prince tenses under him, his thighs squeezing Doyoung’s hips with force. Doyoung tries to soothe the pain with words of praise and reassurance, caressing Jaehyun’s face and hair with a gentle hand.

“I won’t move until you ask me to,” Doyoung mumbles against Jaehyun’s lips, rubbing comforting circles onto the back of his thigh.

Jaehyun hums, and Doyoung can tell that he’s holding back tears of pain. He knows the sting, and how awful the first time is, how shocking it can be on an unexperienced body. Still, he watches Jaehyun slowly begin to soften, his grip around Doyoung loosening as well.

“You can move now,” he says after a while, now completely calm under his husband.

Doyoung pulls out very carefully, giving Jaehyun time to adjust, before thrusting in again. Jaehyun lets out a small gasp, and he spreads his legs a little wider. It doesn’t take long for the Northern prince to find his husband’s sweet spot again, and the pain is long forgotten as Jaehyun shakes in pleasure under him, sneaking a hand between them to stroke himself.

“You’re so good, my love,” Doyoung whines into Jaehyun’s ear. His husband is impossibly tight, and it’s becoming harder and harder to keep himself sane. “You’re doing so well.”

Jaehyun glows under the praise, licking into Doyoung’s mouth as he picks up the pace of his hand. Doyoung sucks a purple bruise over his husband’s clavicle, and then Jaehyun is coming in between their bodies. He comes beautifully, with his eyes shut and mouth open in a silent scream. His grip around Doyoung becomes unbearably tight, and the other prince pulls out of him, wrapping a hand around himself until he’s coming as well, all over Jaehyun’s abdomen and chest.

Doyoung takes a few deep breaths before he pushes himself off of his husband, and he walks to the dresser, from which he pulls out a towel. He wipes Jaehyun clean, slow and gentle. Once he’s done, he throws the towel away without bothering to see where it landed, and he drops himself next to Jaehyun on the bed.

Jaehyun drapes himself over Doyoung, resting his head on the Northern prince’s chest and fitting his leg in between Doyoung’s.

“Are you alright?” Doyoung brushes Jaehyun’s sweaty bangs.

Jaehyun nods sleepily. “It hurts a bit, but it’s a good kind of hurt,” he snorts, and his breath tickles Doyoung’s damp skin. “Like the ache in your leg muscles after a long horse ride.”

Doyoung continues to run his fingers through Jaehyun’s wet hair, scratching behind his ears as if the young prince were a cat.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jaehyun raises his head, propping his chin on Doyoung’s pectoral.

“Anything,” the Northern prince answers truthfully. To be perfectly honest, he doubts he’d be able to deny his husband anything at this moment.

“Who did with you what you did with me today?”

Doyoung gulps. It’s not a particularly painful memory, or one that he fears sharing, but it’s been so long that he has almost forgotten about it. “His name was Jinyoung,” he starts, and Jaehyun looks up at him with round eyes, giving him all of his attention. “He was only a few years older than me, and he belonged to my brother’s guard. I could tell that he liked me the moment his eyes landed on me, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and chased him until he gave in. It would’ve been dangerous for him to court me if I hadn’t shown interest first.”

Jaehyun hums. “Did you love him?”

Doyoung lets out a surprised laugh. “God, no, not at all. But he kept me warm for a couple of winters.”

Jaehyun returns to his original position, with his cheek pressed to Doyoung’s chest. “Winters in the South are already warm,” he pouts.

Doyoung presses a kiss on his husband’s forehead. “My Northern heart will always need a little more heat.”

♘

They spend their last day on the island lounging in bed, tangled in each other. Although a bit clumsy and humble, Jaehyun is also assertive and capricious, and he takes from Doyoung shamelessly. Doyoung worries he might have created a monster as he watches the Crown Prince find his release for the second time that day, in his husband’s embrace.

“I hate to admit it,” Jaehyun smirks as he rolls off of Doyoung, his lean body covered in a thin layer of sweat. “But I think Donghyuck’s idea was impeccable.”

Doyoung chuckles, and he slaps Jaehyun’s thigh playfully. “Don’t talk about your brother while we’re naked.”

Despite his words, Doyoung can’t help but I agree. He feels as if this trip, which forced them to focus their attention on nothing but each other and their growing relationship, helped them understand who they truly are behind their royal masks. Doyoung looks at his husband and he no longer sees the heir to the Throne, cold and distant, but a young man full of eccentricities and hidden interests. Jaehyun is human, and his warmth surrounds Doyoung in every possible way.

Doyoung knows in that moment, as Jaehyun flashes him a dimpled smile and presses a kiss on his sternum, that fulfilling the promise he made to his brother will be easier than he could have ever guessed.

♘

Their ship arrives at the beach the next day, in the early morning. Jaehyun wakes Doyoung up with a playful pinch on his cheek, kissing the spot afterwards. They get dressed just in time to meet the two terrified maids—who sigh in relief once they realize the two princes are presentable—sent to carry their belongings onto the ship.

The captain gives them a satisfied smile when he watches them embark, hand in hand. Jaehyun is more than happy to chat with him throughout the entire journey, asking both about matters in the South and about the mechanisms of the ship. The Crown Prince seems more relaxed than Doyoung has ever seen him, and it fills him with pride to know that their relationship was the catalyst for this change.

The ship arrives at the dock as the sky begins to darken, and neither prince is surprised to find a carriage awaiting them. Jaehyun waves at a couple of starstruck sailors, gifting them one of his handsome princely smiles. Doyoung walks discreetly behind his husband, but he’s surprised to find that there’s recognition in the sailors’ eyes when they look at him as well.

Taeyong greets them with a tight hug and a mouth full of news to share. Gossip and politics in the South sound the same to Doyoung’s ears, but he tries to keep up with Jaehyun and Taeyong’s conversation as the advisor walks the two princes to their room.

They find Johnny waiting in front of their bedroom, dressed in his Royal Guard uniform. He winks at Doyoung, a knowing smirk on his face, and pushes the door open for the princes to enter. Taeyong wishes them both a good night’s sleep, and he leaves the room with a short bow and a loving smile.

The two princes change into their nightwear comfortably. Their boundaries have been rendered useless now, and Jaehyun barely blushes anymore at the sight of his husband’s toned thighs as he steps into his silk pants. They slide into bed, and this time Doyoung doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around Jaehyun, who melts into his embrace.

“Goodnight, my prince,” he says against Doyoung’s lips.

“Goodnight, my love.”


	8. eight

Being the Crown Prince’s betrothed and being his husband are two completely different things, Doyoung quickly discovers. He must now prepare himself for the responsibilities that come with this marriage, since one day he will rule beside Jaehyun as the Prince consort.

Doyoung had never expected this. He lived his life as a second prince, behind his brother’s shadow, and it was a life of contentment and discretion. He never had to fulfill the same duties as Gongmyung, and he relished in that freedom.

However, being a consort in the South feels even more busy than being a king in the North.

Taeyong drags him from tutor to tutor and from meeting to meeting. Doyoung learns more deeply about political tensions in the South, about the paper-thin agreements they share with the power-hungry Empire of the Red Islands, about the century old alliance with the Middlelands, and about the ancient rivalry with the once glorious North.

It’s all very dull to Doyoung’s ears, but he understands the importance of this knowledge—if he wants to properly support Jaehyun, to stand proudly beside him once he becomes King, he needs to train himself.

Jaehyun is also buried in his duties. Doyoung barely gets to see him during the day, as the Crown Prince runs from appointment to meeting to audience. The nights, however, are a different matter. Jaehyun gives himself to Doyoung almost every night, and Doyoung inhales him, takes all of him, absorbs each and every detail of his husband as a token, a promise to keep between the two of them.

“Taeyong wants me to go into the city,” he speaks into Jaehyun’s hair as they lie in bed, basking in the afterglow.

Jaehyun raises a curious eyebrow. “Tomorrow?”

Doyoung hums. “He wants me to go on an official visit as the future Prince consort. He believes it’s important for me to build a strong reputation as my own person, separate from my marriage to you. He fears the people might reject me otherwise.”

“But they love my mother.” The Crown Prince frowns.

Doyoung snorts. “Your mother wasn’t a prince from a kingdom that has been historically opposed to the South’s growth,” he tells Jaehyun, who nods in agreement at his words. “And there’s also the fact that I can’t give you children, something bloodline purists won’t be too happy about. Taeyong is right; I need to make a proper image for myself.”

Jaehyun kisses his chin softly. “With those shoulders and that handsome face… They’ll be easy to please.”

Doyoung laughs, and he rolls them over, so his body is caging Jaehyun’s on the mattress. “I think you and your people might have different interests at heart.”

♘

As it turns out, Jaehyun hadn’t been too off target. Taeyong dresses the Northern prince in perfectly fitting clothes that enhance his body’s sharp angles, and the cosmetologists cover his face in more powders than they had on his wedding day.

“Is all of this necessary?” Doyoung scoffs at the advisor as he struggles to climb into his carriage due to his tight clothes.

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “Trust me when I say that superficiality is not a trait exclusive to nobility in the South.”

Once inside the city, Doyoung finds himself surrounded by guards, who escort him and Taeyong through the busy streets. Doyoung stops to chat with a couple of street vendors who tell him about their struggles and difficulties. He tries to listen carefully, but the speed at which Taeyong wants him to execute this official visit makes it almost impossible for him to bond with any of them.

“It’s like you’re trying to get them to hate me,” he hisses into the advisor’s ear.

Taeyong pulls him by the arm. “Most of them already do.”

Doyoung recognizes some of the vendors and shop owners in the crowd around him—he’d bumped into some of them the last time he went into the city, with Jaehyun. He’s surprised to find that none of them recognize him, and they probably wouldn’t if he were to sneak out with his husband again.

He now understands how his and Jaehyun’s anonymity actually worked. It’s not about the clothes or the hair or even the jewelry. It’s about the way in which he carries himself—how he had been nothing but a young man on a walk through the city that day, and how he is a member of Southern Royalty on an official visit now. In a way, he can’t even say those two are the same person.

“We’re almost done,” Johnny, who had been walking behind him for the whole visit, whispers with a comforting hand on Doyoung’s back. “Just a little longer.”

Doyoung breathes in, trying to calm his nerves down. The truth is he’s terrified—of the people of the South not liking him enough, of being too much of a _Northerner_ for them, of not being enough for Jaehyun.

Too caught up in his thoughts, he fails to see the small shadow in front of him, and he yelps when his legs bump into something warm. It’s a child, he realizes, and he’s holding something in his arms, looking up at Doyoung with big shiny eyes.

“Are you alright?” He immediately asks, crouching in front of the boy. “I’m terribly sorry. Did I hurt you?”

The child shakes his head, but there are tears in his eyes. He extends his arms, trying to shove the lump he’s carrying into Doyoung’s hands. “Please,” he sobs. “My family can’t take care of him.” Doyoung gives him a hesitant look, but the boy doesn’t relent. “You have money, right? You can feed him.”

“Doyoung,” Taeyong digs his fingers into the prince’s shoulder, sensing his doubts. “We can’t.”

Doyoung shrugs his hand off and takes the lump from the boy. He unwraps the dirty blanket with careful hands, and then he gasps. Under the heavy layers of fabric is a kitten, so small it must be less than a month old.

“Does he have a name?” The prince asks, his eyes trained on the kitten.

The child shakes his head again. “Will you take good care of him?”

Doyoung hears Taeyong sigh tiredly above him, and he takes it as a positive answer. “Yes,” he pats the boy’s head. “I promise.”

The child smiles brightly at him, and he runs off before Doyoung can get another word with him.

“Give it to me,” Johnny butts in, wrapping his strong hands around the blanket with surprising tenderness. “I’ll carry it to the Palace.”

The visit lasts for another couple of hours, and by the time it ends and Doyoung is shoved back into his carriage, he’s shaken at least a hundred hands and comforted a hundred wailing grandmothers.

“I think it went well,” he sighs as he slumps into the leather seat.

Taeyong gives him a harsh look. “It did. Although I’m not quite sure what you were trying to achieve when you took that cat. Or what we will do with it.”

“I was doing what that child asked me,” Doyoung answers, insolent. “Isn’t that my duty as his prince? And we will be keeping it. I know Jaehyun will love it.”

Taeyong scoffs. “Of course he will. That’s what irritates me the most.”

Once they arrive at the Palace, a maid takes the kitten from Johnny and sets him in a basket, cushioned in between fluffy pillows. Doyoung takes the basket, and he carries it very carefully into his room, where he finds Jaehyun reading what looks like a military report.

“Doyoung!” His husband greets him with a sweet smile and a kiss on the cheek. “How did it go?”

Doyoung takes off his cape and throws it onto their loveseat. “Taeyong said it went well and I chose to believe him.”

Jaehyun chuckles, and then he notices the basket hanging from Doyoung’s hand. “What’s in there? Did you perhaps bring me a present?” He asks with a flirty smirk.

Doyoung coughs out a laugh. “Yes, let’s call it a present.” He holds the basket in front of Jaehyun. “See for yourself.”

The Crown Prince digs his hands into the cushions a little too harshly and is immediately countered with an indignant meow. He jumps back, eyes blown wide.

“What the—” He gasps, taken aback. “Doyoung, it’s alive!”

Doyoung barks out a laugh, and he sets the basket down before pushing his hands into the pillows and digging out the tiny kitten, which is nothing more than a ball of white fur.

“Oh, my…” Jaehyun walks towards him, careful not to startle the kitten again.

“Would you like to hold him?” Doyoung says with a gentle voice.

“Yes, please,” Jaehyun nods, looking at the small cat with hearts in his eyes. Doyoung places the kitten in his husband’s hands, and he watches fondly as Jaehyun presses him into his chest.

“He’s so _teeny_ ,” the Crown Prince observes as he scratches the cat’s head. The animal begins to purr loudly, and he snuggles into Jaehyun’s arms. “Are we allowed to keep him?”

Doyoung nods, extending a hand to gently pet the cat. “I got into somewhat of an argument with our beloved advisor, but I suppose a prince’s wishes are a prince’s wishes in the end.”

Jaehyun’s smile shines with happiness. “This is the loveliest gift I have ever received,” he kisses Doyoung’s lips with gratitude. “Thank you, my prince.”

“My pleasure.” The Northern prince returns his husband’s smile. “Now we have to find him a name.”

Jaehyun holds the kitten up until his dainty pink paws are dangling above their heads. “I believe we will have to wait until he makes a name for himself.”

♘

_Dearest Gongmyung,_

_Things are going well. In fact, they’re going better than I could have ever dreamed of._

_The Palace has somehow become a home. Its massive, luxurious walls—which once felt like my penitentiary—now comfort me and greet me with familiarity after a long day of attending to my duties._

_Regarding my relationship with Jaehyun… I believe it’s progressing excellently. When I made you that promise, last winter, I never expected that it would be so easy to fulfill. Loving Jaehyun is an inevitability, an inescapable consequence. I’m not quite sure I love him yet, or he loves me, but I’m certain those feelings are harboring._

_Oh, you’ll find this hard to believe! A few days ago, during my official visit to the Capital City, a child handed me this lump wrapped in a dirty blanket. I was shocked to find a kitten inside it, and when the boy asked me to keep it and take care of it, I wasn’t heartless enough to deny his wishes._

_Now, with this addition to our household, it feels like we’re slowly building a family, with the help of our friends. Having this life project, these people to care for as Doyoung the man and not Doyoung the Prince… It feels better than any golden crown ever would. And with the way Jaehyun looks at me, with those loving eyes, I believe he agrees._

_I hope everything is well in the North. Has Seolhee’s health improved? I think of you both every single day. Please take good care of her and tell her I wish to see her soon._

_Loves you always,_

_Doyoung_

♘

Finding a name for their kitten proves to be an easier task than they had expected.

Doyoung watches him play with Donghyuck, destroying everything in his way—such as Donghyuck’s _very_ expensive pants, their boudoir’s curtains, an entire platter of fruit—when he’s nothing but a fluffy white shadow, and the Northern prince comes to a realization.

“Blizzard,” he tells Jaehyun that night when they’re tucked in bed, their kitten purring between them.

“Huh?” Jaehyun gives him a confused look.

“Because he’s white like snow and catastrophic like a storm.”

The Crown Prince smiles, and he rubs Blizzard’s tummy. “ _Blizzard_. I like it. It’s very you.”

Doyoung’s cheeks turns scarlet, and he hides his face in the crook of his husband’s shoulder.

♘

Summer chimes in like a hammer, demolishing Doyoung’s dignity.

He drags himself from room to room, lethargic because of the heat and humidity. Shockingly, he discovers that summers in the South are horribly _wet_ , plagued by storm after storm that leave the air heavy and sticky.

Donghyuck laughs at him as he drops an ice cube in his lemonade. They’re sitting under a sunshade in the Gardens, barefoot and dressed in the flimsiest clothes their maids could find. Doyoung lets out a loud groan, wiping the sweat off of his neck and clavicles with a towel.

“Good day!” Jaehyun says from behind them, circling their chairs to stand before them. “What’s the most beautiful prince of the South doing out here in the blistering heat? Oh, and Donghyuck is also here!”

The youngest prince scowls at his brother, and he takes a loud sip of his lemonade.

“We wanted to get some fresh air,” Doyoung whines. “Which was a terrible idea because there is no such thing right now!”

Jaehyun cackles, and he drops himself on the chair between the other two princes. “Worry no longer. I come with good news, at least for you, but not so for Hyuckie.”

Donghyuck raises an impertinent eyebrow at the Crown Prince. “Pray tell, brother.”

“Every summer we spend a few weeks in the Middlelands for political purposes, but it’s mostly just an excuse for Mother to visit her family and for us to escape the heat,” he explains to Doyoung. “Mother has already settled on the date for this year’s visit. It’s a lovely place, you’ll see, but Donghyuck hates it because of his little infatuation with a certain cousin.”

“Twice removed!” Donghyuck retorts, his face bright red.

“Nonetheless, it’s the last thing our already twisted bloodline needs.”

Donghyuck gapes at him, so furious Doyoung worries smoke will start coming out of his ears. He struggles to find his words, until eventually he explodes. “Do you hear yourself? You’re ridiculous!” He kicks his chair and stomps away from them childishly.

“Will the air be cooler there?” Doyoung breathes out.

Jaehyun laughs, and he takes the towel from Doyoung’s hands to wipe his husband’s forehead. “Definitely. You will love that place, my prince. We leave in a week.”

Doyoung nods, nearly delirious, and he leans into Jaehyun’s touches.

♘

The week drags on for what feels like an eternity, and Doyoung thanks all the gods, old and new, when he finally climbs into the carriage. Jaehyun is sitting beside him, Blizzard’s carrier squashed between them. He’s been growing in size so fast that it feels as if Doyoung will miss everything if he as much as blinks.

The kitten lets out a frightened meow after a particularly harsh bump in the road, and Doyoung peeks his head in the carrier. He tries to sooth Blizzard with a few pats, but it achieves absolutely nothing.

“It’s better to leave him be,” Jaehyun tells him. “He’ll calm down eventually, but you need to stop stimulating him.”

Doyoung decides to follow his husband’s advice, and he leans back into his seat, shutting his eyes as Jaehyun entertains himself with one of his cheap novels.

They decide to make their first stop in the place up north—the same one they had stayed in during their hunting trip. Doyoung holds Jaehyun a little tighter than usual as the memories of the Crown Prince’s cold body flash before his eyes, and he breathes in his scent like it’s therapeutic—salty and flowery at the same time, just like Jaehyun himself.

Jaehyun tells him more about his mother’s family as their carriage rides into Middlelander territory, the next morning.

“They’re all… odd, for lack of a better word,” he explains. “Which isn’t necessarily bad, of course. Their culture is still mostly based around ancient religious beliefs, and they don’t see much purpose in busing themselves with matters of politics of war. It baffles me that the country has survived for so long.”

Doyoung stares out the window, watching as the dry browns of the South meld into the vibrant greens of the Middle Lands. “It sounds like a wonderful place. I understand why its people have fought to protect it from vultures like us, North and South.”

Jaehyun sighs, and he rubs his neck. “Yeah, all of its inhabitants are very passionate.”

Their second stop is in one of the Middleland palaces. The design is old-fashioned, from before the Reunification War, back when the Middlelands were comprised of different principalities. The entire palace is caged inside a wall of flower bushes, and Jaehyun plucks one out and sets it on Doyoung’s hair right before they’re set to continue with their journey.

“What flower is this?” He asks his husband in the carriage. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“It’s a tulip,” Jaehyun answers, brushing Doyoung’s hair with his fingers until he’s satisfied with the result. “They were my grandmother’s favorite. Mother stopped planting them in our garden after she passed away.”

“The color is so strong,” Doyoung observes, watching his reflection on the window glass. “It’s a beautiful flower. I understand why your grandmother liked it.”

Jaehyun smiles at him, dimples on display, and caresses the back of Doyoung’s head affectionately.

The last stop is perhaps the strangest one. Doyoung is aware of how ancient the Middlelands are as a civilization, but he never expected to experience it firsthand. The castle they spend the night in is cold and isolated. Doyoung buries himself in Jaehyun’s arms for the entire night, seeking some warmth, and he slaps his husband’s freezing hand away when he tries to slip it under his shirt.

“We’ll reach the capital before sundown,” Queen Yuna tells the two princes as they all prepare to depart the next morning. “Rest easy, Doyoung, it will be much warmer than this cave.”

“The South has changed him,” Jaehyun snorts. “Who are you and what have you done with my man of the North?”

The Queen watches in amusement as her son in law pushes the Crown Prince into their carriage with not-so-playful violence.

As promised, they ride through the city’s walls just before nightfall. It’s nothing like the South—or the North, for that matter—, with its tall buildings and packed streets. This city, which in fact is nothing more than a town, is slow paced and welcoming, surrounded by green. Doyoung can spot the palace, at the very end of the main avenue. It’s modest but sturdy, like an old tree, but it has one element that takes Doyoung’s breath away the moment his eyes fall on it—a glass dome that shines like the finest diamond.

“That’s the greenhouse,” Jaehyun informs him when he notices Doyoung staring.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Doyoung gasps. “Will you take me there?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen at the Northern prince’s sudden request. “I— of course, I will.”

Their carriages drive through the palace’s gate, and they come to a halt around a stone carved fountain. A woman awaits them, dressed in rich green robes with a discreet tiara on her head.

“Sister!” Queen Yuna throws herself into the woman’s arms unceremoniously.

“That’s my aunt,” Jaehyun explains as they climb out of the carriage, Blizzard’s carrier in his hands. “The Queen of the Middlelands, although she prefers the term _matriarch_.” A maid rushes to their side, and she takes Blizzard without hesitation. Doyoung almost stops her from doing so when he hears the cat’s panicked meows, but his husband gives him a reassuring look.

Jaehyun extends an arm for Doyoung to take, and they march together towards the two Queens, who are still wrapped in each other’s embrace. Donghyuck stands behind his mother awkwardly, swaying back and forth.

“Donghyuckie!” The foreign Queen finally notices him, letting go of her sister and wrapping her arms around her nephew. “My, my, you’ve gotten so big in the last year.”

“I’m an adult, auntie,” Donghyuck mumbles through gritted teeth, red as the tulip in Doyoung’s hair.

“And so mature!” She squeezes his cheek dotingly. After letting go of the youngest prince, her eyes fall on Jaehyun and Doyoung, and she gives them a bright smile. She’s very beautiful, in a fresh and natural way, and her hair is the same reddish-brown tone as her sister. “Jaehyunnie,” she gives the Crown Prince a warm hug, before pulling away and locking eyes with Doyoung. “And you must be—”

“Aunt Taeyeon, this is my husband, Prince Doyoung of the North and South,” Jaehyun introduces him before his aunt can finish her sentence, probably saving them both some embarrassment. “Doyoung, this is my aunt, Queen Taeyeon of the Middlelands.”

Doyoung bows before the Queen respectfully. “You carry impressive titles,” she says. “Historic, dare I say.”

The prince blushes, stunned by the strange compliment. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, please,” she shakes a hand in playful disapproval. “Just call me Aunt Taeyeon. We’re family, after all.”

Doyoung nods, slightly nervous, and Jaehyun squeezes his arm in reassurance.

“Let’s go inside, Yuna,” Taeyeon says, wrapping her hand around her sister’s. “The girls are eager to see you.”

The Queen laughs happily, and she follows Taeyeon without question.

“Come on, my prince,” Jaehyun pulls him by the arm. “There are many hands to shake ahead of us.”

Doyoung sighs, but he can’t fight the small grin that threatens to appear on his lips at the thought of being introduced as Jaehyun’s husband over and over again. “Lead the way, love.”

The Royal Family of the Middlelands is a large one, Doyoung learns. Half of the court is in some way or another directly related to Queen Taeyeon, and they all live within the palace’s walls. Doyoung is swarmed by excited relatives the moment he walks into the dining room, where a banquet has been set up as a welcoming ceremony.

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun calls his attention, drawing him from a strange conversation about fruit with one of his uncles. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Of course,” Doyoung replies, bidding the uncle goodbye with a polite tilt of his head. “Who is it?”

Jaehyun takes his hand and leads him across the room silently, until they stop to stand in front of a young woman. She has soft, round features and eyes full of wonder. “Oh, Jaehyun, here you are,” the woman says, wrapping her arms around Jaehyun’s neck with such ease that it makes the Northern prince’s blood boil. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come see me.”

“I would never do that,” Jaehyun gasps with fake offense before turning to look at his husband. “Doyoung, this is Princess Naeun, my cousin and dear friend.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness,” she greets him with a lovely smile.

“Likewise,” Doyoung answers, but it comes out dry and cold. Naeun’s smile tenses slightly and Jaehyun frowns at him, confused and upset.

“Uhm, so,” the princess attempts to save the conversation. “For how long will you be staying?”

Jaehyun quickly composes himself. “Three weeks, I believe. A month, at most.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Suddenly, she spots something over Jaehyun’s shoulder, and she lets out an amused giggle. “Three weeks of torture for poor Donghyuckie. It hasn’t been a day and he’s already running away from poor Jeno.”

Doyoung turns his head and he spots Donghyuck hiding behind a big plant with wide leaves. There’s another boy next to this plant, looking around with a confused expression, as if he had just lost someone.

“I wonder if he will ever get over his crush,” Jaehyun laughs. “He does the same thing every single year.”

The conversation continues between the two cousins, but Doyoung tunes out. There’s an uncomfortable feeling stirring inside him, and it worsens every time Jaehyun laughs at one of Naeun’s comments, his smile widening and dimples showing. It’s bitter and burning, and it leaves a horrible taste in Doyoung’s mouth. He knows what it is, but he refuses to admit it even to himself. Eventually, he gets tired of feeling like a shadow, and he squeezes Jaehyun’s hand a little too hard.

“Jaehyun, I’m tired,” he pouts, a little childishly. “Can we go to bed?”

The Crown Prince’s eyes widen at Doyoung’s words. It’s clear that he doesn’t know how to handle this side of his husband very well.

“Doyoung, we just arrived—”

“Please, love,” he begs, and the name works like magic. Jaehyun slumps, and he gives Naeun an apologetic look.

“Naeun…”

“Don’t worry about me, Jaehyunnie,” she pats his cheek lovingly, and Doyoung wants to cut her hand off. “Go take care of your husband.”

“Right,” Jaehyun nods. “Goodnight, cousin.”

She wiggles her fingers, wishing them both a good night’s rest.

“Let’s go, then,” the Crown Prince sighs, tired as well.

Jaehyun takes Doyoung through the palace, to the room in which he stays every time they visit. The insides of this palace are much more modest than the ones in the South, and the decorations are nothing but plants and moss.

Their room is smaller than the one back in the South, but it has everything they could possibly need, including a packed bookshelf and a bathtub.

“So,” Jaehyun speaks as he takes off his cape and boots. “What do you think of the palace?”

Doyoung mimics him. “It’s welcoming,” he answers. “Although I’m surprised they let me inside.”

Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“The North and the Middlelands don’t have the best relationship,” Doyoung grimaces. “It would be understandable if the Queen refused me entry into the capital, considering how many times my people have invaded it.”

“Well, you’re no longer a prince of the North, Doyoung,” Jaehyun argues, eyes full of emotion. “You belong in the South now, with me.” 

Doyoung swallows, and he looks away from his husband. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

Jaehyun takes off his jacket as well before walking up to the other prince, cornering him. “Care to tell me whatever happened earlier?”

Doyoung avoids his gaze. “It was nothing, forget it.” He tries to walk away, but Jaehyun is faster. He takes hold of Doyoung’s forearms and keeps him in place. “Hey!” The Northern prince protests.

“A healthy marriage must be built on honesty,” he says as he releases his grip on Doyoung. “Otherwise it will crumble.”

Doyoung sighs. He understands his husband’s words, but he’s too ashamed to admit his feelings. However, the moment he looks up and his eyes lock with Jaehyun’s vulnerable ones, he knows that he must swallow his pride. “I was… jealous,” he finally admits, cheeks lighting up with shame.

“Jealous?” Jaehyun sounds genuinely surprised. “Of wh—” he cuts himself off the moment he realizes. “Of Naeun?!”

Doyoung clenches his jaw. “Yes, obviously.”

Jaehyun blinks at him, baffled. “B-but… She’s my cousin!”

“Well, that doesn’t stop Donghyuck, does it?” He spits, irritated by Jaehyun’s naivety. As if there’s any ambiguity in him feeling threatened by a lovely girl with rosy lips.

Jaehyun finally breaks out in laughter, and he wraps his arms around Doyoung’s waist. “Doyoung, my prince,” he says against his lips. “There’s nothing to be jealous of. I belong to you, only.”

Doyoung gives in easily, softening in his husband’s arms. “You haven’t been mine in a while,” he mumbles, allowing himself to be kissed gently.

Jaehyun chuckles. “It hasn’t even been a week. Do you like me _that_ much?”

“More than you can imagine,” Doyoung answers between kisses. “More than what’s good for me.”

Jaehyun kisses him deeply, tightening his grip on Doyoung and pressing their chests together. Doyoung sighs into Jaehyun’s mouth when he feels his husband’s hands trailing down his back. The Crown Prince’s muscles tense under Doyoung’s hands, and he pulls away.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask for a while,” he tells Doyoung, caressing his husband's bottom lip with his thumb.

“What is it?” The Northern prince wonders, curious.

Jaehyun gulps. “I… I would like to do to you what you do to me.”

Doyoung’s face breaks into a cheeky grin. “Oh, Jaehyunnie,” he teases the Crown Prince, cupping his pink cheeks. “You’d like to fuck me?”

Jaehyun takes a sharp breath, and his face reddens in Doyoung’s hands. “Yes,” he admits with a tiny voice.

The Northern prince cackles, and he presses a trail of kisses on the side of Jaehyun’s face. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever ask,” he laughs into his husband’s mouth. “I thought maybe you enjoyed our previous arrangement a bit too much.”

Jaehyun pulls away from Doyoung. “I did!” He quickly clarifies. “I do! But I want to try this too.”

“Alright,” Doyoung whispers before jumping into Jaehyun’s arms without warning, wrapping his legs around the taller man’s hips. “Then fuck me, Crown Prince.”

Jaehyun wraps his hands around Doyoung’s thighs, kissing him almost ferociously. Doyoung can feel his arousal growing in between them, and he tries to hide his amused smile by shoving his tongue into Jaehyun’s mouth. The Crown Prince isn’t as pliant this time, and he bites down on Doyoung’s lower lip, pulling a loud mewl out of his husband.

“Jaehyun, bed,” Doyoung orders, ever so controlling.

The Crown Prince obeys, and he walks to the bed, where he drops Doyoung a little clumsily. They’re both too preoccupied to care, however, and Doyoung takes hold of Jaehyun’s collar to pull him down and onto him. He unbuttons the other prince’s shirt as fast as he can, while also devouring his lips eagerly.

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun stops him by grabbing his hand gently. “Slow down. There’s no rush.”

The Northern prince blinks up at his husband, and his tense body relaxes under Jaehyun’s. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just… I want you so much.”

Jaehyun smiles, so handsomely it makes Doyoung’s heart ache. “And you will have me. Now and always.” He lets go of Doyoung’s hand to unbutton his own shirt, painfully slow. “We have all the time in the world.”

Doyoung watches in silence as Jaehyun pushes the shirt off of himself, letting it fall to the floor carelessly. He extends a hand to caress his husband’s chest, raking his nails up and down the strong muscles. Jaehyun watches through half-lidded eyes as Doyoung’s hands leave his body, instead going to his own shirt, which he stars unbuttoning just as slow as Jaehyun had done earlier. The Crown Prince helps pull his husband’s shirt off, and he throws it away absent-mindlessly, focusing his attention on the waistband of Doyoung’s pants. His arousal is starting to get the best of him, and he tugs the Northern prince’s pants off along with his underwear a little harshly. Doyoung chuckles as Jaehyun steps out of his own pants and underpants, his cock painfully hard between his legs. He moves to crawl over Doyoung again, but the Northern prince stops him with a hand on his chest.

“Get the oil first,” Doyoung requests, and Jaehyun immediately follows, walking to their travel chest and digging out a glass bottle. He tosses it a Doyoung, who catches it in the air before gesturing for Jaehyun to return. The Crown Prince kneels on the bed again, hovering over Doyoung, who pulls him down by the neck. They kiss slow and deep, their hands tracing the lines of each other’s bodies. Doyoung gasps as Jaehyun sucks a bruise under his clavicle, and he pushes his head up so their eyes can meet.

“Would you like to prepare me?” He asks, a little impatient. “Or would you prefer I do it?”

Jaehyun looks Doyoung up and down before making a decision. “I want to watch you prepare yourself,” he declares, putting a playful smirk on his husband’s face.

“Lie on your back, then.” Doyoung pushes the Crown Prince by the shoulders until he’s hovering over him, his knees on either side of Jaehyun’s hips.

Jaehyun watches intently as Doyoung uncaps the bottle and pours some of the oil on his fingers, leaving the bottle on the nightstand once he’s done as to not waste the rest. He slides one hand in between his legs, using the other to hold his weight on Jaehyun’s chest. It’s been too long since the last time he did this, so he starts off with one finger, moving it in and out of himself as he presses it against his walls. Doyoung lets out a small gasp when the pad of his finger brushes against his sweet spot, and he takes it as a sign to add another one. It doesn’t take long before he feels ready for a third one, but the inevitable sting causes him to tense in Jaehyun’s lap. His husband notices it, and he sits up to wrap his arms around Doyoung, pressing wet kisses on the Northern prince’s jaw and neck. Doyoung continues to stretch himself, purposefully avoiding his most pleasurable spot. Jaehyun’s cock brushes against the inside of his thigh, and he shoves the prince down with one hand, pulling the other one out of himself.

“I’m ready,” he assures Jaehyun, who gives him a questioning look. “I can’t wait any longer.”

The Crown Prince lets out a laugh, but it quickly turns into a moan as Doyoung wraps his wet fingers around him, covering him in oil with long strokes. “Fuck, Doyoung. Me neither.”

Doyoung positions himself over Jaehyun, very slowly lowering himself on his husband. Jaehyun groans in pleasure, and he digs his fingers into Doyoung’s thighs almost painfully as he holds himself back from bucking up into the other prince.

“Give me a second,” Doyoung breathes out once he’s fully seated on Jaehyun. “It’s been a while.”

Jaehyun nods, and he rubs Doyoung hips and behind lovingly. “As long as you need.”

The Northern prince focuses on his husband’s touches to forget the sharp pain, until he feels nothing but Jaehyun’s warmth inside him. He wiggles his hips tentatively, and Jaehyun lets out a loud moan, his grip on Doyoung tightening.

“Fucking hell,” he curses out at the unexpected pleasure. “It feels… It’s so…”

“I know,” Doyoung chuckles, a bit breathless, as he starts to move up and down.

A drop of sweat runs down the Northern prince’s back because of the physical effort, and his rhythm falters. Jaehyun notices this, and he wraps his arms around Doyoung’s waist before thrusting up into him, pulling a sharp moan out of Doyoung as Jaehyun hits his sweet spot over and over again.

Ever so sentimental, the Crown Prince sits up again so he can keep his husband in his embrace. Doyoung throws his arms around Jaehyun’s neck, running his fingers through the other prince’s hair.

“Right there, Jaehyun,” he encourages his husband, clenching around him. Jaehyun whines into his mouth, high pitched enough to let Doyoung know that he’s close. “Touch me, love, please.”

Jaehyun nips at Doyoung’s neck as he wraps his long fingers around him, pumping him until the Northern prince cries out, coming all over their chests. He hides his face in Jaehyun’s neck as the Crown Prince continues to push into him, when out of nowhere, he tries to pull out of Doyoung.

“What? No.” Doyoung lifts his head to look into Jaehyun’s eyes. He’s breathing heavily, red all over—cheeks, ears and chest—, and Doyoung can tell that he’s desperate to come.

“But—” Jaehyun tries to argue, but Doyoung doesn’t give him the chance.

“Come inside me,” he says, starting to roll his hips again. “I want you to.”

Jaehyun groans, and he buries his face in his husband’s shoulder as he chases his release. He bites down on the soft flesh as he finally comes, filling Doyoung until he’s spent. Jaehyun lets himself fall back down on the bed, and he holds Doyoung by the waist as the other prince pulls him out carefully.

Doyoung drops himself on top of Jaehyun, resting his head on his husband’s shoulder. He wipes the sweat off of Jaehyun’s face lovingly, brushing his hair out his eyes as well. Jaehyun kisses the palm of his hand, and he allows Doyoung to throw a leg over his waist. When he notices the remnants of his release leak out of his husband, he lets out a dreadful sigh.

“How am I supposed to ask for new bedsheets after just one night?” He complains out loud.

Doyoung giggles, and he pecks Jaehyun’s lips playfully. “You better get used to it, because something tells me it’ll happen every night.”

♘

When he wakes up, Doyoung isn’t surprised to find an empty bed. He touches Jaehyun’s side of the bed and feels the cold sheets under his fingers, which means that his husband has been out of bed for a while now. He hears a small meow coming from the end of the bed, and he notices Blizzard waking up as well.

“Good morning, baby,” he opens his arms for the kitty, who rubs his head against the palm of Doyoung’s hand. “Did Jaehyun bring you home earlier?” He certainly hopes it was his husband and not a servant, since he slept in a very compromising position.

The Northern prince pushes himself up and out of bed, stretching his limbs and popping his joints. His body is tacky with sweat and _other fluids_ , so he decides to take a quick bath before leaving his room to wander around the palace. Thankfully, no hysterical maids burst into the room, and Doyoung scrubs himself clean in peace, at his own pace.

He dresses himself in casual summer clothes. Last night’s experience told him that this visit could be considered more personal than official, so he slips into some of his more comfortable clothes. Today he’ll be a family member, not a prince.

It’s not difficult to find the family once he steps out of the room. Their loud chattering fills the entire wing, if not the entire palace, and Doyoung chases it through the corridors. Eventually, he bumps into a servant, who bows before pointing at a big wooden door on his left.

Doyoung pushes the doors open, and he walks into what looks like a dining room, with a massive table in the center, completely filled with what must be the entire Court of the Middlelands.

“Doyoung!” Queen Taeyeon smiles at him from her seat at the head of the table. “You’re finally awake! Here, we saved you a seat.”

She points to an empty chair on her left, right next to Jaehyun, who winks at him and pats the chair’s cushion. Doyoung rolls his eyes, but he walks to the seat with a small smirk on his face.

“How am I always the last one to wake?” He wonders aloud as he takes his seat. He lets Jaehyun kiss his cheek and is surprised when no one bats an eye at this intimate gesture.

“Because you sleep like a baby,” Jaehyun argues as he starts to fill Doyoung’s plate with food.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “And I’m assuming you’re the mother in this arrangement? At least by the way you’re filling my plate like I can’t do it myself.”

The Crown Prince knees his thigh and goes back to his own food. “Don’t be distasteful,” he speaks around a slice of ham. “I simply like taking care of you.”

Doyoung scratches his husband’s chin to show his gratitude, and he dives into his plate, which is mostly vegetables and a bit of ham. He now understands how the Middlelanders all look so fresh and healthy—they probably have the best diet in the continent.

“So, Doyoung,” Taeyeon calls his name from her seat, and the Northern prince feels as if someone had drawn a target on his forehead. “How do you like our palace?”

Doyoung puts down his cutlery. “I haven’t had the chance to see much of it yet, but from what I’ve gathered it seems like a wonderful place. I’m excited to visit the dome, in particular.”

Taeyeon nods, satisfied. “It’s one of our many wonders. Were you aware that it’s actually a greenhouse? If you like flowers, it’ll leave you speechless.” She points her glass at her nephew. “I’m certain Jaehyun can walk you there sometime. You should visit before you return to the South.”

Doyoung looks at his husband, and their eyes meet. “I’d love to.”

Jaehyun smiles at him, happy. “That settles it then.”

They enjoy the rest of their breakfast wrapped in the comfort of familiarity. It takes little time for Doyoung to grasp just how important this place and these people are to Jaehyun, and he realizes that there’s something he must do out of respect for his husband and family.

As if on cue, Naeun stands up from her seat at the other end of the table, and Doyoung hears her mention something about needing to use the restroom. He acts fast, kicking his chair and startling Jaehyun beside him.

“Where are you going?” The Crown Prince frowns.

Doyoung gives him an apologetic look. “There’s something I need to take care of. Would you mind waiting for me here? It will only take a moment, hopefully.”

Jaehyun stares up at him, puzzled, but he eventually shrugs, accepting the Northern prince’s request.

Doyoung wastes no time, chasing after Naeun and following her out of the room as discreetly as possible. He reaches her just as she moves to turn the corner, and he places a cold hand on her shoulder to stop her. Naeun jumps in surprise, and she whips around, her mouth forming a perfect circle. Once she realizes who Doyoung is, she deflates, and places a soothing hand on her chest.

“Prince Doyoung!” She laughs, cheerful as ever. “You scared me.”

Doyoung grimaces. “My apologies. I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”

Naeun smiles at him, and the light in her face reminds him of Jaehyun a bit too much for his comfort. “Of course. And there’s no need to be so formal,” she winks at him. “We’re all family here.”

Doyoung clears his throat nervously. “Right, well, I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. It was inappropriate and uncalled for and I should have addressed you with nothing but the utmost respect, if not as a princess than as my husband’s cousin and friend.”

Naeun’s eyes widen at his short speech, and she looks almost more shocked from his words than she had when his cold hand graced her shoulder. “Well, Doyoung, I accept your apology, of course. But there’s really no need for one. I did find your attitude a little strange, but I didn’t think more of it. You were tired after a long trip and I was holding you from finally getting some much-deserved sleep.”

The Northern prince rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “To be completely honest… I was jealous,” he confesses, bright red. “I saw you and Jaehyun interact so easily that it made me feel a bit uneasy.”

“Oh, no, Doyoung,” she shakes her head, her beautiful long hair swaying. “It’s nothing like that. Has never been and will never be.”

“I know that now,” Doyoung admits with shame. “I apologize for assuming, though. I hope there won’t be any discomfort between us.”

“Not at all,” Naeun flashes him another smile, and she begins to twirl a strand of hair between her fingers. “You know, I never expected Jaehyun to marry a man like you and somehow… You are exactly the type of man Jaehyun needed.”

Doyoung quirks an eyebrow. “And by that you mean…”

“You saw right through him the moment you met him, didn’t you?” She says, confident. “You saw through his _Crown Prince mask_ and you shattered it into a million pieces.” The princess nods as a sign of approval. “I’m glad fate brought you together.”

“Fate?” Doyoung laughs sarcastically. “I think you mean political-economic arrangements.”

Naeun wiggles her shoulders as she walks away from the Northern prince and into the bathroom. “Call it what you will.”

When Doyoung returns to the dining room, he finds that most of the family has already left to start their day. Jaehyun, however, is waiting for him obediently, and his eyes shine the moment they land on his husband.

“Took you long enough,” he chuckles, getting up from his seat.

Doyoung brushes his cheek with affection. “I’m sorry, I got a bit caught up.”

Jaehyun takes the hand on his cheek and holds it in his own. “Don’t worry. Shall we go now?”

The Northern prince frowns, but he allows his husband to drag him out of the room. “Where to?”

Jaehyun looks at him over his shoulder. “To the greenhouse, my prince! Where else?”

The greenhouse, Doyoung quickly discovers, is on the other side of the palace. Jaehyun pulls him by the arm, walking him through the labyrinthine corridors, and he leaves Doyoung panting from the effort.

The entrance to the greenhouse is a massive iron door, and Doyoung gives his husband a questioning look at the level of security deployed for a simple room.

“It’s so the bugs won’t escape,” Jaehyun explains as a couple of guards start to push the gates open.

“The bugs?” Doyoung’s eyebrows shoot up.

Jaehyun smirks. “You’ll see,” he says as he walks Doyoung into the room.

The moment the Northern prince’s eyes take in what’s in front of them, he is left breathless. Around him, thousands of different plants grow, proud and healthy. Countless different species of flowers paint in vibrant colors over the green canvas, all of it framed by the rays of sun, which wink down at them through the glass dome. Doyoung understands now what Jaehyun meant when he mentioned the _bugs_ , as myriads of butterflies fly over their heads, batting their colorful wings.

“What do you think?” The Crown Prince asks as he leads Doyoung through the stone path that snakes between the tall trees.

Doyoung blinks a couple of times, stunned. “I— I have never seen anything like this before. It’s… indescribable.”

Jaehyun laughs happily. “It’s something special, isn’t it?” He threads his fingers with his husband’s. “When I was a child, I loved to spend the entire day here, surrounded by so much _life_.” He smiles at the memories. “And then Donghyuck got stung by a bee, and he forced me to play outside in the patio, instead of here.”

Doyoung snorts. “Of course he did. Everything always goes his way.”

“Except for Jeno,” Jaehyun jokes, drawing a loud cackle out of the other prince.

“Yes, I suppose that’s the one thing that escapes his power. It is quite a fun show to watch, though.”

They continue walking in comfortable silence, enjoying the magnificent picture around them. Doyoung stops to smell some of the flowers he’s never seen before, and Jaehyun waits patiently for his husband to roam around the room.

“Listen, Doyoung,” he calls the Northern prince’s attention after a while, and Doyoung returns to his side immediately. “I also brought you here because I wanted to tell you something.”

“Oh,” Doyoung stops in his tracks, and Jaehyun mimics him so they can talk while facing each other. “What is it?”

The Crown Prince takes a deep breath before speaking. “Thank you,” he says heavily. “Thank you for everything. For forgiving my attitude, for understanding me, for taking care of me—”

“Oh, Jaehyun,” Doyoung cups his husband’s cheeks, caressing the skin under his eyes with the pads of his thumbs. “There’s no need to thank me. I’m only being a good husband.”

“Exactly,” Jaehyun states. “That was never part of the agreement, but you still chose to do it. You chose to try and find happiness with me, and for that you deserve my gratitude for the rest of our lives.”

“How could I not choose happiness, Jaehyun?” He argues, eyes watering. “When you make me this happy, so effortlessly.” Doyoung wraps his arms around the other prince, burying his nose in Jaehyun’s neck and inhaling his scent. “Only a fool would choose to hate you, my love.”

Jaehyun holds him tightly against his chest. “Thank you, my prince.”

♘

The days pass by quicker than Doyoung would like. He tries to focus on the present, however, and enjoy these moments of freedom for as long as they last, no matter how short they might be.

They spend their days lounging around, reading books and playing chess. Doyoung discovers that Naeun is an avid card player, and she introduces them to a different game every day. Meanwhile, Donghyuck distracts himself from his crush by carrying Blizzard everywhere he goes, as if the poor kitty were a shield. This earns him a few scoldings from both of the older princes, but they relent once they realize how entertained Blizzard seems by the constant movement. It’s certainly better than being trapped in his tiny carrier or in the princes’ room.

At night, when they’re alone, Doyoung takes advantage of this newfound but short-lived freedom as well. He takes all of Jaehyun, gives all of himself, until the night blends into the morning and even after. They seal their growing relationship between those linen sheets, with Jaehyun’s head buried in between Doyoung’s legs, the Crown Prince’s name coming out of his husband’s lips like a mantra.

All in all, Doyoung believes it’s the best summer of his life. Without a shadow of a doubt. He thinks back to those dry, cool summers in the North, hidden away in that dark fortress. It all seems so far away now, like it was nothing but a nightmare. He stares at Jaehyun’s head on his chest as the man reads silently, both of them sprawled on the grass, and brushes his fingers through the Crown Prince’s hair.

Yes, nothing but a nightmare. He is free now.

♘

Everything dies when summer ends.

It’s one of their last days in the Middlelands. With summer drawing to a close, politics and economics come to life again, and the Queen and Crown Prince are required back in the Capital City.

Doyoung is walking back to his room, Blizzard in his arms, after a long match against Naeun. Thankfully, Donghyuck offered to team up with him, and after playing for the entire evening, they managed to win the game. Jaehyun retreated a bit earlier, arguing that he needed to have a conversation with his mother, and Doyoung thought nothing more of it.

Now, however, he realizes how wrong he was.

He hears their voices before he gets the chance to push the door open.

“The clock is ticking, Jaehyun,” the Queen says, voice sterner than Doyoung has ever heard before. “You must tell him before we depart.”

“I’m trying, Mother.” Jaehyun sounds tired and frustrated. “But can’t you see how happy he is now? How little worries he has? He deserves to rest after the year he’s had.”

“You’ve been hiding this for long enough—”

“ _I have_? This is your problem as much as it is mine, if not more. You’re the one who insisted on hiding this from not only the Southern Court, but also the entire country. This not only concerns me and Doyoung.” Jaehyun sighs once he’s done, irritated.

“Which is exactly why you need to tell Doyoung before we return home. I’m giving you the chance to discuss this in private with your husband before I make the news public. Or would you rather he finds out through a public announcement?” The Queen asks, daring.

There’s a short, tense silence before Jaehyun speaks again. “No, I wouldn’t,” he admits.

“You need to face your fears, son,” the Queen continues, a bit softer than earlier. “He deserves your honesty.”

Jaehyun says nothing more, and Doyoung can tell the conversation is over by the sound of his husband dropping his weight on the bed.

“You have until tomorrow,” the Queen gives her son an ultimatum. “If you haven’t told him by then, I’ll do it myself.”

Doyoung doesn’t get enough time to react before his mother-in-law pulls the door open, almost running into him. Blizzard lets out an indignant meow and he jumps out of Doyoung’s arms before rushing into the bedroom.

“Doyoungie!” She gives him a shocked stare.

“I suppose I should go inside,” he says, pushing past her with force that could be considered disrespectful. She lowers her head, however, and allows Doyoung to close the door without bidding her goodbye.

Jaehyun stands up from the bed, his jaw clenched and muscles tense. “Doyoung, I—”

“Is there something you need to tell me, Crown Prince?” Doyoung cuts him off coldly.

Jaehyun gulps and he refrains from approaching the other prince, standing awkwardly next to the bed. “Yes, I’m afraid I do.”

“Go ahead, then,” Doyoung urges him, crossing his arms on his chest.

The Crown Prince takes a deep breath, and he steps a little closer to his husband.

“Doyoung,” he breathes out, voice shaky. “My father, the King… He’s dead.”

Doyoung’s body goes cold, and his face drops in shock. He stares at Jaehyun in silence, unable to process his words. “The— Wh—” he tries to speak, but no words come out.

“He died of an infection last autumn. Mother has been covering the truth with the help of her most trusted advisors, but the time has come. The people can’t be in the dark for much longer.”

“Why did you hide this from me?” Doyoung cries out, overwhelmed by the weight of Jaehyun’s confession.

“Because,” he looks up, into his husband’s eyes, “by Southern law, a Crown Prince cannot be crowned until he is married.”

Doyoung blinks once, twice. “So I am the bridge between you and the Crown?”

“No!” Jaehyun tries to embrace Doyoung, but the other prince steps back, rejecting his touch. “No, Doyoung, you’re so much more than that.”

“That’s why the wedding was so rushed,” the Northern prince continues rambling. “You wanted to sit on the Throne before your father’s corpse turned cold.”

“It’s not that simple and you know it,” Jaehyun’s tone becomes harsh as Doyoung’s accusations turn darker. “I have a duty to my country, just as you do to yours. To fulfill it I had to marry you before, yes, but the relationship that we built is ours and only ours.”

“A relationship built on lies!” Doyoung barks. “How could you hide this from me, Jaehyun? The King of the South is _dead_ , and I was living in his fucking palace without being aware of this! You kept your mouth shut so I would walk into this marriage happy and willing and you would get your much-desired Crown as quickly as possible.”

“How could you be so naïve and simplistic?” Jaehyun raises his voice with rage. “Of course I wanted something out of this arrangement, just as you did! I saved your country from bankruptcy and you saved mine from leaderless chaos.” He stops to rub his face, attempting to calm himself down. “I married you as the Crown Prince, but I gave you my heart as Jaehyun. My title and myself are very different things, and you more than anyone should know that.”

“How can I know those aren’t lies as well? How can I know you were sincere on that island? All the things you said and did…” he trails off, affected. “How can I know you were being honest in that greenhouse just a few weeks ago?”

“Believe it or not, Doyoung, I exist outside of you. I did and said all those things because _I wanted to_ , for myself. Not because I wanted to deceive you, or use you, or fucking trick you into anything. I felt all of it,” the Crown Prince declares.

Doyoung looks away from him, choosing instead to stare out the window at the dark sky. “I need time to think,” he sighs. “Please leave.”

Jaehyun doesn’t argue. He takes his sleepwear in one hand and his boots in the other, walking past Doyoung on his way to the door.

“The Coronation Ceremony will be held once we return,” he tells Doyoung from the doorframe, and takes a long pause before speaking again. “I want you to know that I lied to you as the Crown Prince, but what I feel for you as _Jaehyun_... I’ve never felt something so pure and honest in my entire life.”

And then he’s gone.


	9. nine

Doyoung doesn’t speak to Jaehyun in the next couple of days, doesn’t even see him. He wakes up every morning to the salty taste of dried tears on his cheeks, and Blizzard rubbing his furry face all over his chest.

He barely leaves the room before they’re set to leave. He spends hours in bed, pondering on Jaehyun’s words, as well as his own. He understands Jaehyun’s loyalty to his title and his duty, but he also can’t help but feel hurt at the fact that Jaehyun’s Crown Prince persona had leaked into their relationship so deeply. It was bound to happen, Doyoung knows this. As princes, it’s only natural that their obligations will eventually slow their relationship’s progress, or even damage it. Be that as it may, he still believes that he has the right to feel wounded over this, even if he has already made the decision to forgive Jaehyun, although a bit reluctantly. He doubts he would ever be able to resent his husband for long, when his feelings for him are already so deeply rooted inside him.

He packs both of their chests the night before their departure, mostly because he doesn’t want to appear rude or bitter, but also because no matter how upset he might be right now, he still cares for Jaehyun—as much as he hates to admit it.

The morning of their departure, the entire family sees them off. Naeun gives the Northern prince an empathetic smile, and she holds him tightly in her embrace as they say their goodbyes.

“Everything will be alright,” she says into his ear, ever so unselfishly kind. “Remember to be forgiving. If you hold grudges, they’ll rot inside you.”

Doyoung nods, and he brushes her cheeks with affection. Queen Taeyeon shakes his hand firmly, gifting him an honest smile. Despite how uncertain his heart feels, knowing that these people—Jaehyun’s family—still show him support is reassuring enough to make him tear up in relief.

“Doyoungie,” Donghyuck approaches him, gentler than ever before. “Would you like to share a carriage with me? Mother can share hers with Jaehyun.”

Doyoung ruffles the young prince’s hair. “Of course, Hyuckie. Thank you.” He hands the boy Blizzard’s carrier. “Tell him to take care of our kitten throughout the journey. He’s been very distressed because of Jaehyun’s absence and I believe he might appreciate spending some time with his other owner.”

Donghyuck takes the carrier obediently. “Of course.”

Doyoung watches him run towards his mother and brother, who are also ready to depart. He sees Donghyuck hand Jaehyun the carrier, leaning into the Crown Prince’s space to share some information with him. The younger prince’s words make Jaehyun look up, and his eyes land on Doyoung, who holds his gaze daringly. Jaehyun stares at him with a blank expression until his mother calls his attention, signaling for him to climb into the carriage.

Donghyuck runs back to Doyoung. “We must leave now. Are you ready, brother?”

Doyoung extends a hand towards their carriage. “After you.”

♘

The way back home always seems shorter than the outbound journey. Doyoung barely registers anything as they move from place to place, over different roads and through nameless towns.

Jaehyun doesn’t try to approach him for the entire journey, smart enough to know when to keep his distance. Doyoung’s anger is starting to dwindle, and he’s ashamed to admit that it’s mostly due to how terribly he misses his husband. All of him. He misses Jaehyun’s bright smile, his soft hands, his raspy voice in the mornings, his daring touches in the night…

“When will you talk to him?” Donghyuck raises the subject tentatively.

Doyoung sighs. “When we arrive at the Palace, and walk into the privacy of our room… Then, I will speak with him.”

Donghyuck gives him a small smile. “Good to hear. Excellent, actually.”

The Northern prince chuckles in amusement, but the young prince’s words make him come to a realization—his conflict with Jaehyun isn’t only affecting the two of them, but their family as well. Even the cat is visibly distraught.

Doyoung knows he has to put an end to this petty fight, for both his sake and everyone else’s. He has held Jaehyun accountable for long enough, and now they need to move on, put this behind them.

Most of all, he wants to hold his husband in his arms again.

♘

They arrive at the Palace just as the evening starts to blend into the night. Their carriages drive into the carport, where Taeyong is already waiting for them with a welcoming smile on his face. However, his smile drops the moment he sees both Jaehyun and Doyoung in their miserable states, and the scene reminds the Northern prince a bit too much of the last time they were in this position—after Jaehyun almost drowned.

“Welcome home, everyone,” he tries to greet them with cheer, but none of them reciprocate.

“Thank you, Taeyong,” the Queen replies, ever so kind. “Are all of our rooms ready?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he assures her. “Your baths as well.”

“Thank God,” Donghyuck groans as he stretches. “I need a week-long bath.”

Taeyong chuckles with endearment. “Go ahead, then. We will all be very busy soon, so use your time wisely.” He watches Donghyuck run into the Palace before turning to Doyoung. “This letter arrived for you just yesterday,” the advisor informs him as he hands him a sleek envelope.

“Thank you, Taeyong.” Doyoung attempts to smile at his friend, but it looks more like a grimace.

“Is something wrong?” Taeyong discreetly asks him, visible concern in his eyes.

The Northern prince squeezes his advisor’s hands reassuringly. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, alright? I need to get some sleep first.”

Taeyong nods. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready.”

Doyoung walks to his room in silence, the mysterious letter in his hands. He knows Jaehyun follows close behind, thanks to the unmistakable sound of his boots against the marble, but Doyoung doesn’t bother to check.

He acknowledges the guards before his door with a curt nod before finally walking into his room. Jaehyun closes the room after himself with a loud bang, and he puts Blizzard’s carrier down to let him roam free again. He walks up to Doyoung with careful steps, lifting a hand to brush his husband’s shoulder.

“Doyoung, I—”

“Not now,” the Northern prince interrupts Jaehyun, his voice colder than he had intended. “Sorry. I want to read the letter first, if you’ll let me.” He lifts it, putting its royal seal on display. “I think it’s from Gongmyung.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun drops his hand. He sounds a bit disappointed, but not offended. “Yes, of course. I’ll prepare us a bath in the meantime.”

Doyoung tries to remain stoic while his insides twist in both nervousness and excitement at his husband’s words. Impatient, he tears the envelope with his fingers and pulls the parchment out.

_My dearest Doyoung,_

_Never in my life could I have imagined that I would be writing this letter, especially not to you. My heart breaks as I write these words, not because of my fate—which I have already accepted—but because I know just how much pain they will cause you._

_Doyoung, my baby brother, I have failed my country, my people… I have failed you most of all._

_I, the Crown Prince of the North, Donghyun of the Kim dynasty, have been accused of treason and sentenced to death._

_My execution will take place the night of the equinox—_

The letter slips from Doyoung’s fingers, and he falls to his knees, clutching at his chest where his heart has come to a halt. The world pulses around him, and it turns red with rage.

“Jaehyun!” He lets out a panicked, gut-wrenching scream. Doyoung calls for his husband as the only anchor his terror-stricken brain can remember.

“Doyoung?!” The Crown Prince runs out of the bathroom and towards his husband. He kneels next to Doyoung, taking the Northern prince’s face in his wet hands. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Doyoung sobs in his husband’s arms. It feels as if all the air has been blown out of his lungs, and he struggles to breathe as he starts to lose control of himself and his emotions.

“Doyoung, my love, my prince,” Jaehyun tries to calm him down with soothing touches, brushing his tousled hair with his long fingers. “You need to calm yourself so you can talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.”

Doyoung takes a deep breath to cool himself down, and his body shakes with exertion after his breakdown. “Th-the letter,” he breathes out, barely intelligible. Jaehyun understands, however, and he stretches a hand to grab the letter. His face falls the moment he skims over the words, and he gives Doyoung a horrified expression.

“Doyoung—”

“We have to do something!” The crying prince sobs, looking at his husband with desperate, pleading eyes.

“I don’t—” Jaehyun tries to reason with the hysterical prince, but he doesn’t get the chance.

Doyoung scrambles to his feet, and he snatches the paper from the Crown Prince’s hands. “I must go fetch Johnny. We’re going up to the North.”

Jaehyun pushes himself up hastily, and he runs after his husband, who is already out the door. “Doyoung, wait!” His attempts to stop the Northern prince are ignored, and he has no choice but to sprint after Doyoung, skipping steps on the stairs as they both descend into the lower levels, headed towards the servant’s rooms.

A young maid yelps when Doyoung pushes her out of the way as he stomps through the narrow corridors. Jaehyun gives her a quick apology on his husband’s behalf, and he continues to follow the Northern prince until he stops before a slender door.

“Doyoung, please, you need to calm down before you make any decisions!” Jaehyun shouts as he wraps a firm hand around the other prince’s frail wrist.

Doyoung pulls his arm back with excessive violence, forcing Jaehyun to back down, both physically and emotionally. “Don’t tell me to calm down,” the Northern prince spits without raising his voice, his sharp eyes cutting into Jaehyun’s. He wastes no more time on his stunned husband, instead pushing his guard’s door open.

“What the hell!” Johnny’s broad form jumps in his seat on the bed. In his surprise, he drops the boot he was about to slide his foot into, and it falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Doyoung! What are you doing here?”

The prince runs to his friend, and he shoves the letter into the guard’s hands. “Read for yourself,” he says with a shaky voice.

Completely dumbfounded, Johnny takes the letter, and it doesn’t take long before his face turns near green with disgust as he reads Gongmyung’s devastating words.

“Do—Doyoung,” Johnny stutters, broken.

Doyoung drops to his knees before Johnny, clasping his hands together in a desperate plea. “You must take me to the North,” he begs. “I have to save him, I have to!”

Johnny gapes at the prince, at a loss for words. He looks down at him, letter still in his hands and eyes full of conflict.

All of a sudden, Taeyong barges into the room, dressed in his sleepwear. He looks as if someone has just pulled him out of bed. “Jaehyun!” He yelps once he notices the Crown Prince standing next to the door. “Doyoung?!” The advisor runs to him, yanking him by his arm and forcing him up. “What the hell are you both doing? Do you understand how scandalous this is?”

“Taeyong,” the Northern prince hiccups, and the other man’s indignant frown dissolves instantly. “It’s my brother.”

Taeyong’s round eyes widen, and he wipes Doyoung’s tear-stricken face with a worried hand. “What’s wrong with the Crown Prince?”

Johnny hands him the letter discreetly, and Taeyong skims over it with a blank expression. “This is…” He speaks up once he’s done reading. “This is outrageous. Sentencing the heir to the Throne to death? It’s… Inconceivable.”

“It was my mother,” Doyoung scoffs coldly. “I’m certain.”

“We must notify Queen Yuna immediately,” Taeyong decides. “Surely there’s something she can do to avoid this political suicide!”

“No,” Doyoung refuses. He barely raises his voice, but he doesn’t need to. There’s enough determination in his tone to draw all attention to him. “No, I have to do this. I have to fix this myself, somehow. If I want to reach the North before the equinox, I must leave now—tonight.”

“I’m not letting you go anywhere without me,” Jaehyun speaks up, walking towards Doyoung to stand before him. “I’m certainly not letting you anywhere near that filicidal woman.”

Doyoung gives him a harsh, piercing glare. “If you stop me from going to my brother, I will never forgive you.”

Jaehyun holds his husband’s stare for a long, excruciating minute, until he eventually lets out a defeated sigh. “Taeyong, prepare the horses,” he orders. “We’re going to the North.”

♘

Taeyong obeys his prince’s orders in absolute secrecy, on the condition that both him and Johnny will accompany them on their trip. Doyoung agrees quickly—he only wants to depart as soon as possible. Taeyong bribes a couple of maids to retrieve Doyoung’s old Northern garments for both him and Jaehyun to wear. The weather in the North is very harsh throughout the entire year, and Doyoung doesn’t know how Jaehyun’s delicate Southern skin will react to the cold.

Jaehyun scribbles a note for his mother, apologizing for leaving without notice and for consequently postponing his much-awaited coronation. By the time they climb into their carriages, the entire city has been swallowed by the darkness of the night.

Doyoung barely catches a wink of sleep that first night. Restless, he spends most of it staring out the window, into nothingness. His head is filled with possible scenarios, some of them dangerously idealistic, and others so terrifying he starts to feel sick.

“Jaehyun,” he nudges his sleeping husband until the man wakes, confused and disoriented. “Tell him to stop, tell the driver to stop.”

“What?”

“Do it! Now!” Doyoung implores, and Jaehyun finally livens up, straightening in his seat to knock on the driver’s window before them.

“Prince Doyoung wants to make a stop!” He shouts over the noise of the horses and wheels, and the driver complies obediently.

Doyoung kicks his door open, and he throws himself to the ground unceremoniously before emptying his stomach on the gravel road. Behind him, Jaehyun jumps out of the carriage and quickly wraps his arms around him, rubbing his back in comfort.

“It’s okay, Doyoung,” he whispers soothingly. “Let it out.”

“Fuck,” the Northern prince curses out. His throat hurts and his mouth tastes horribly, but at least his clothes are mostly unstained.

Jaehyun reaches into the pocket of his cape, and he pulls out a white handkerchief, with which he wipes Doyoung’s face clean attentively.

“There,” he says once he deems Doyoung clean enough. “Do you feel better?”

Doyoung nods silently, and he allows Jaehyun to help him up. In the darkness, he spots Johnny watching over them, one foot on the gravel and another one in his carriage—as if he had been holding himself back from stepping in. There’s a strange expression on his face, a mix of hurt and guilt, that leaves Doyoung feeling uneasy. 

Regardless, the physical effort and emotional exhaustion finally get to him, and he crashes the moment his head meets the cushion of the carriage’s seat.

When he wakes, it’s to the smell of rain and dead flowers.

“Where are we?” He moans before even bothering to look out the window.

Jaehyun jolts in surprise. “You’re awake,” he observes, shifting in his seat. “We passed the border a couple of hours ago, so we’re somewhere in the Middlelands.”

Doyoung rubs the sleep out of his eyes. His head is pounding from both crying and heaving last night, and he tries to alleviate the pain by pinching the bridge of his nose. “That was fast,” he comments, genuinely surprised. “It’s been less than a day.”

“The drivers were promised a richly enlarged pay for their prime services,” Jaehyun informs him with a confident look. “But I’m afraid we might have to make our first stop soon. I don’t think the horses will be able to hold for much longer.”

“That’s alright,” Doyoung murmurs as he toys with his lips nervously.

“Listen, Doyoung—” the Crown Prince tries to speak, but Doyoung doesn’t allow it.

“Not now, Jaehyun,” he interrupts his husband without second thought. “Later.”

Jaehyun lets out a long, tired sigh, and he deflates in his seat. “Very well,” he agrees. 

Neither of them speaks again.

It doesn’t take much longer before they finally make a stop. Their carriages come to a halt in front of a shady-looking inn, and Taeyong forces the two of them to stay in their seats and wear their hoods up as him and Johnny book their rooms for the evening and night. 

Johnny brings some food to the princes’ room, and the two eat in silence. Regardless of the sandy texture and taste of the cheap meal, Doyoung has no appetite, and he leaves his plate mostly full. Jaehyun watches over him worriedly, but he refrains from commenting and busies himself with his own plate. 

“You should try to sleep now,” the Crown Prince recommends once they’ve both finished eating. “You haven’t properly rested in days now.”

Doyoung sighs, and it feels like he just emptied his entire lungs and his chest caved in. He’s so tired that he has lost all of his wit to argue against Jaehyun, but he is stubborn before he is anything else. “I must—”

“You won’t be of any use to your brother if you die from overexertion before we even reach the North,” Jaehyun answers sharply. He’s unquestionably correct, as much as Doyoung hates to admit it, but he decides to comply this one time. 

The Northern prince opens his eyes to find Jaehyun’s hand outstretched towards him, presumably to help Doyoung’s exhausted self up, but they both know it’s more than that—it’s a peace offering, a silent first step into their reconciliation.

Doyoung takes it, laying his hand on top of Jaehyun’s soft, delicate one. He misses his husband’s tender and attentive touches, but the horrifying news about Gongmyung had easily distracted him from the marital issues he still needed to take care of. 

“Come here,” Jaehyun grunts as he pulls Doyoung up. He lets go of his hand, instead taking hold of the brooch that ties Doyoung’s cape. He unclasps it with nimble fingers and lies it on one of the old wooden chairs in the corner of the tiny room. Doyoung walks to the bed, where he drops himself clumsily, sitting on his usual side. Jaehyun moves to stand before him, his legs between Doyoung’s knees, and he unbuttons the Northern prince’s jacket and shirt. Doyoung lies back so the other prince can pull his pants off, and he goes pliant under Jaehyun’s touch—as innocent as it is this time—, enjoying this gesture of unadulterated affection that his husband has so selflessly decided to gift him with.

Jaehyun walks to the small chest Taeyong packed for them and grabs Doyoung’s sleepwear. He helps the Northern prince into the soft clothes with patience before lying him on the bed and burying him under the covers lovingly.

“Rest well, my prince,” the Crown Prince whispers on Doyoung’s forehead before pressing a kiss on the cold skin. “You will need all your strength soon.”

The rest of their journey is mostly spent in silence, although the two princes have progressed past the need for words. As they approach the North, getting closer and closer every day, Doyoung grows more restless. Jaehyun notices almost immediately, and he wraps his large hand around Doyoung’s smaller one whenever his husband tenses. It’s almost absurd, Doyoung thinks, how Jaehyun’s tenderness makes him all the stronger most of the time, no matter how hard he’s learnt to convince himself of the opposite. Doyoung squeezes Jaehyun’s hand as a sign of gratitude, and he looks for comfort in the warmth of his husband’s arms every night.

The palette outside becomes colder as they advance towards the Northern border. Jaehyun looks out the window curiously, intrigued by this atmosphere he hasn’t experienced before. 

The North is a cold place in ways that transcend weather or geography. It’s a cold that settles deep inside you and spreads—slow and steady—until it swallows you whole, until you’re nothing but a shell of your true self, icy and hollow. 

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said the weather was punishing here,” Jaehyun observes as he steps out of his carriage for what Doyoung knows will be their last stop before they reach the Royal Fortress.

“I never lie,” Doyoung states, adjusting his cape. His skin has thinned during his stay in the South, and he feels the sharp wind cut through his skin and into his bones. There’s something poetic about it, he guesses, about how his time with Jaehyun has changed him, but that’s the last thing he wants to ponder on right now.

He watches as Taeyong takes care of their luggage, walking towards the inn with determined steps, Jaehyun trailing behind him. He moves to follow, but a strong hand stops him, wrapping itself around his elbow.

“Doyoung,” Johnny calls him. “May I speak to you for a second?”

The Northern prince stares at his guard, baffled. “I suppose you may,” he agrees, taking in Johnny’s anxious expression. “Is something wrong?”

Johnny points to an empty field with his head. “Follow me.”

Doyoung obliges, and they walk into the massive field of nothingness. Nothing ever grows in the North.

“I grew up in a village much like this one,” Johnny comments as they walk. “Right along the border.”

“That’s what saved you, John,” Doyoung breathes out. “That’s what made you so… warm.”

Johnny gives him a smile, but it’s a sad one. Dread starts to coil in Doyoung’s stomach, and he stops in his tracks in the middle of the field. “What do you need to talk about, Johnny?”

The guard stops as well, and he turns to face his prince, staring into his eyes with nothing but shame. “I have failed you, my prince.”

Doyoung grimaces. “What do you mean? You’ve been nothing but a dear friend to me.”

“When your mother hired me,” Johnny starts, and the mention of the Queen of the North makes Doyoung’s blood run cold, “it was to protect you, yes. But that wasn’t all of it. She…” He stops to swallow. “I became her spy,” he confesses, and Doyoung feels his heart fall out of his chest. “Every month, I would report back to her about you, your progress and your situation. She wanted to ensure you were doing your part, being a good husband and—” Johnny doesn’t get the chance to finish his speech. 

A sharp sound cuts through the air, and Doyoung’s hand collides against Johnny’s cheek with so much force that the guard stumbles back.

“You—You— How could you?!” Doyoung shouts, mortified. 

“I’m so sorry, Doyoung. I haven’t written to her in weeks—”

“I can’t believe this,” Doyoung laughs, dry and sarcastic. “Even after being sold off I can’t escape her grip. You’re a fucking fool, John of the Suh family. You let her poison you like she does with everyone, and in exchange for what? Money? Power? All of those things I could’ve given you myself, through my own influence or through Jaehyun’s. And you know what I can do with that power now?” He chuckles again. “I could have you hanged for treason, just like my brother.”

Johnny gulps, but he remains silent, with his head down.

“But I won’t.” Doyoung shakes his head. “I refuse to become her. I came here to fix her mess; I won’t be as stupid as to create another one myself.”

Johnny drops to his knees before Doyoung, bowing so deep his forehead touches the ground. “Thank you so much, my prince.”

“Don’t thank me,” Doyoung spits, already walking back towards the inn. “Thank her for masking your scandal under so many others.”

He stomps away without looking back, clutching his cape with a deadly grip to stop himself from bursting out in the middle of the field.

When he finally reaches his room, he finds that Jaehyun is already there, dressed in only his shirt and pants. Doyoung smashes the door closed, so hard that he can almost see the walls shake.

“What the hell?” Jaehyun yells as Doyoung rips his cape off and throws it away carelessly. “Have you lost your mind? We could get thrown out!”

“I can’t trust anyone,” Doyoung growls, thinking aloud. “Not a single one of you. Not my mother, or my husband, or even my fucking personal guard!”

“What are you talking about?” Jaehyun walks up to him, cornering him.

Doyoung straightens his back, guarding himself for the incoming argument. “I guess it’s become somewhat of a trend now. To have people betray me, I mean.”

“Doyoung, what are you saying?”

“You know exactly what I’m saying!” Doyoung attacks him. “All you people have done since I left the North is lie to me, plan my life behind my back and teach me to smile and nod!” He shakes his head, incredulous. “Even my personal guard was making sure I was behaving. I can’t believe this!”

“Wake up!” Jaehyun finally snaps, his face red with rage. “Crawl out of that well of self-pity you’ve thrown yourself into and realize how fucking egotistical you sound! Johnny is a person before he is your guard. There are reasons behind all of his choices and, believe or not, many of them won’t include you,” he gives Doyoung a disappointed look, and it hurts more than his harsh words ever could. “Wake up already, Doyoung. You’ve been trapped in your little bubble for long enough now.”

Doyoung feels his throat clench around a suppressed sob. “You have no right—”

“I have every right!” Jaehyun argues, eyes glossy as well. “I have done nothing but shower you in love and affection for the past year, proved how much I wanted _this_ , _us_ , to work. That was never part of the deal, you know that. I could have married you and forgotten you, but I didn’t, because I wanted to love you. And I did. I do.”

His husband’s confession renders Doyoung speechless, and he stares at Jaehyun in silence, completely dumbfounded.

There’s never been anyone like Jaehyun before in his life. There’s been sex, romance, adventure—but never companionship, understanding and forgiveness. Doyoung wants to laugh. He should’ve known all along. It has always been love—it was from the moment Jaehyun gave himself to Doyoung for the first time, not only his body, but his heart as well.

“Jaehyunnie…” He sighs, and his lower lip begins to tremble. Jaehyun acts fast, wrapping his arms around Doyoung and holding him so tight it’s as if he wants them to become one. Doyoung buries his face in the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, wetting his shirt with his heartbroken tears. “I’m so scared,” he manages to say between cries.

Jaehyun—sweet, loving and oh so forgiving Jaehyun—caresses his back softly. “I know, my prince, I know.”

“Losing him would be like losing myself.” Doyoung digs his fingers into Jaehyun’s shoulders. “I won’t allow it.”

Jaehyun pushes him back with gentle hands, just so he can stare into his husband’s eyes as he speaks. “Listen to me. I will do everything in my power to stop this. It’s my responsibility, both as your husband and as the Crown Prince of the South.” He wipes Doyoung’s tears softly. “Your family is my family.”

“Jaehyun…” Doyoung sighs, but he decides that words are useless right now. Instead, he presses his lips against Jaehyun’s, pouring all of himself into the kiss. Jaehyun reciprocates eagerly, tightening his grip around Doyoung’s waist and parting his lips for his husband. It never takes too long for Jaehyun to become putty in Doyoung’s arms, but he seems particularly pliant under the Northern prince’s touch tonight.

The Crown Prince lets out a small whimper over his husband’s lips that makes Doyoung’s skin heat up, and he pulls away to look into Jaehyun’s eyes with honesty. “Jaehyun, can I have you?”

Doyoung knows what this is, what he’s doing. One side of him chides him for using Jaehyun’s body as a distraction, but the other craves the other prince’s touch almost desperately—his warmth, his comfort. He needs this; this last night in his and Jaehyun’s little bubble before tomorrow’s potential disaster. There’s no way of predicting what his life might become after tomorrow, and he wants to save this moment for himself, just in case.

Jaehyun understands, as he always does. He kisses Doyoung again, chastely but with purpose. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Doyoung cups his husband’s soft cheeks before lowering his hands, caressing Jaehyun’s neck and chest until his fingers find the buttons of his shirt. “Me too, love,” he says against Jaehyun’s lips. “You can’t imagine how much.”

Jaehyun helps him unbutton the shirt, pushing it off his own shoulders once they’re done. Doyoung runs his hands over the heated skin until Jaehyun bats them away and wraps his own fingers around the collar of the Northern prince’s shirt. Soon enough, Doyoung is shirtless as well, and he lets out a drawn-out sigh at the feel of Jaehyun’s bare skin against his.

“Lie on the bed,” he commands the other prince, albeit with a soft voice. Jaehyun instantly obeys, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and resting his weight on his elbows. Doyoung pulls his husband’s boots and pants off, as well as his undergarments, leaving the Crown Prince completely bare. His body is still as beautiful as it was the last time Doyoung saw it, but their time apart—no matter how short—makes Jaehyun all the more enticing under his husband’s intense gaze. 

There’s something exhilarating about having Jaehyun naked under him while he’s still dressed, and Doyoung presses him into the mattress as he sucks a trail of bruises on his neck.

“Ah, Doyoung,” Jaehyun gasps when his cock brushes Doyoung’s clothed thigh. “Just fuck me already.”

The Northern prince chuckles. Despite how irritating he can get, Doyoung has always loved Jaehyun’s brattier side in bed; how shameless and unapologetically he demands Doyoung’s touches.

Doyoung obliges, and he pushes the rest of his clothes off. Jaehyun watches intently and scoots back on the bed until he is lying in the center. His arousal is becoming more evident, and he caresses his chest and thighs to refrain from touching himself. Doyoung crawls over him, kissing his knee, stomach, chest, until their lips finally meet. Jaehyun’s tongue brushes his slowly, sensually, and Doyoung swallows his moans as they rut against each other.

“Love.” Doyoung pulls back, and he taps Jaehyun’s lower lip with two fingers. “Open up.”

His husband responds quickly, parting his lips so Doyoung can lay his fingers on his tongue. Jaehyun sucks on the Northern prince’s fingers keenly, coating them in spit until they’re dripping, and then Doyoung pulls them out, replacing his fingers with his own mouth as his hand travels down Jaehyun’s body. 

The Crown Prince breathes out heavily as one of his husband’s fingers enters him, slow and patient. It hasn’t been that long since the last time they were together like this, but it was long enough for Jaehyun’s body to offer more resistance than usual. Despite this, the prince relaxes easily under his husband, and it doesn’t take long before Doyoung is thrusting three fingers inside him.

“Right there!” He yelps when Doyoung presses down on his sensitive spot, clenching around his fingers. “Please, Doyoung, _my prince_ , I’m ready.”

Doyoung couldn’t refuse his husband’s pleas even if he wanted to. Jaehyun is already lost in his pleasure, red all over and so hard it might hurt, and Doyoung desires him almost violently. He pulls his fingers out of the prince to spit on his palm, and he wraps his hand around himself, groaning at the sudden pleasure. Jaehyun watches through half lidded eyes as the Northern prince covers himself in a thick enough layer of spit as to not hurt him, and he lets Doyoung position him on the bed as he wants him, grabbing his hips with strong hands. 

Jaehyun moans in relief once Doyoung finally enters him, throwing his head back in pleasure. Doyoung takes advantage of this, sinking his teeth into Jaehyun’s exposed neck as he slides into him at a slow but steady place.

“Jaehyun,” he cries out once he’s all the way in, buried so deep inside his husband it’s as if they’re one. “I love you,” he admits, whispering into Jaehyun’s ear. Almost instantly, he feels as if this weight he has been carrying for months has been lifted off of him. Accepting his feelings liberates him, allows him to finally move forward and love Jaehyun in the way he deserves, in the way they both deserve.

Jaehyun laughs breathlessly, and he runs his fingers through Doyoung’s damp hair. “I know, my prince, I know.”

Doyoung thrusts into Jaehyun slow and deep, covering his face with small kisses. Jaehyun wraps his legs around Doyoung’s hips and he locks his ankles behind him. He pulls the Northern prince’s hair as he picks up his speed, and Doyoung watches, entranced, as Jaehyun is drawn closer and closer to his release.

“You look so beautiful right now,” Doyoung speaks against Jaehyun’s lips in between playful nips. Jaehyun blushes bright red, and he whines into his husband’s mouth, always so sensitive to praise. “My love, my husband,” Doyoung mumbles over the Crown Prince’s skin.

Jaehyun replies with a series of ‘yes’s, and he bucks his hips up in time to meet Doyoung’s thrusts. “I’m so close,” he sobs, burying his face in the crook of Doyoung’s shoulder.

“Me too,” Doyoung pants, digging his fingers into the flesh of Jaehyun’s thigh.

It only takes three more hard thrusts for Jaehyun to come with a silent cry, his plush lips forming a perfect round shape. Doyoung bites down on his husband’s clavicle as he comes as well, emptying himself inside Jaehyun.

They remain in a tight, silent embrace for a while. Jaehyun brushes Doyoung’s hair with loving fingers, groaning when the Northern prince pushes himself up to pull out of him, but he lets out a satisfied hum when his husband returns to lie in his arms, head pillowed on his chest.

Doyoung presses a soft kiss on the darkening bruise on Jaehyun’s chest. “I’m sorry.” 

There’s much more than a simple bruise behind Doyoung’s apology, but Jaehyun has always been smart enough to decipher him. 

Or, perhaps, he just loves him enough to try.

“It’s alright,” he assures the other prince. “Luckily, Northern garments are modest enough to hide it. If we were in the South, everyone would be able to see through our flimsy shirts.”

“At least that would keep the Court entertained,” Doyoung jokes.

Jaehyun laughs, and his chest vibrates under Doyoung’s cheek. “For around a week, at most.”

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Doyoung catches himself dozing off as Jaehyun rubs his neck lovingly.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jaehyun speaks up out of nowhere, pulling Doyoung out of his feeble slumber.

“Hm?” Doyoung answers eloquently.

Jaehyun takes it as a yes. “When you walked into the room earlier, you said something about Johnny betraying you. What happened?”

Doyoung takes a deep breath. If he confides the truth about Johnny’s betrayal in Jaehyun, his guard’s fate will no longer be in his hands, but in the Crown Prince’s. As future ruler of the South, it’s his duty to protect the kingdom from traitorous foes. And what Johnny had done—reporting to another kingdom about the Prince consort—could be considered High Treason, especially on a personal level. There is no way Jaehyun would let him walk free, were he ever to find out.

“It’s nothing,” Doyoung finally replies, avoiding his husband’s eyes. “Just a quarrel between friends.”

Jaehyun hums. Doyoung can’t really tell if he’s convinced, but he supposes it doesn’t matter, at least right now. Jaehyun knows that they have bigger issues to deal with. “I hope you can fix it soon.” He kisses the top of Doyoung’s head. “But for now, let’s rest.”

Doyoung nods tiredly, and he closes his eyes.

The next morning, a loud knock on their door wakes them at the crack of dawn. It’s Taeyong; he instructs them to freshen up as quickly as possible from the other side of the door before running off to wake their drivers and tend to the horses. 

For the first time in his life, Doyoung has no trouble getting out of bed. He jolts awake, ridden with anxiety, and immediately starts readying himself. Jaehyun watches from the bed, still half-asleep, as Doyoung wraps himself in his heavy Northern prince garments.

“You look handsome in black,” Jaehyun comments with a voice coated in sleep. “A bit older, and more serious, but handsome.”

Doyoung gives him a small nervous smile, and he gestures for him to get out of bed and come closer. Jaehyun groans loudly, but he kicks the covers off of himself and walks up to Doyoung obediently. It’s obvious that he’s using his brattier, more childish side to lighten up the heavy atmosphere. Doyoung gives him a thankful kiss on the cheek before walking to their travel chest and pulling out the Northern garments they brought for Jaehyun to wear.

“I don’t know how you did this every day before coming to the South,” the Crown Prince notes as Doyoung binds him in the thick and stiff belted jacket. “I can barely move inside this.”

Doyoung snickers, amused. “A lot of practice and a lot of servants,” he explains. “But these aren’t day-to-day clothes. This is formal attire, tailored specifically for me as a prince of the North.”

“That explains the shoulders.” Jaehyun pinches the excess fabric on his chest. Although he is slightly taller than the Northern prince, his build is much slimmer and narrow, which means Doyoung’s jacket falls a bit loosely on his shoulders. Doyoung adjusts it as best as he can by tightening the belts until the wrong sizing is less obvious.

Doyoung steps back to take all of Jaehyun in. Dressed in Northern clothes from head to toe, Jaehyun appears much rougher and mature than he does with his pristinely white Crown Prince garments. The sight is conflicting to Doyoung—one side of him rejects the idea of Jaehyun belonging to the cruel and cold world of the North, and the other makes his heart flutter at the image of his husband acknowledging this integral part of him and his identity.

“How do I look?” Jaehyun asks, twirling around playfully.

Doyoung pauses to think. “You look like you’re mine,” he answers.

It’s true. With their matching uniforms and gold bands around their fingers, there is no room to wonder what their relationship could possibly be. Jaehyun has never looked more like Doyoung’s spouse than he does in this moment, and the Northern prince’s stomach flips on itself with affection. He’s so used to the thought of him belonging to Jaehyun that he’s never considered the idea that Jaehyun belongs to him as well.

“I’m glad,” the Crown Prince smiles, the top of his ears brightly red. “I want everyone in the North to know that I’m yours, and that I will fight for you.”

“Jaehyun…” Doyoung looks at him with a mixture of pride and concern.

“It’s my duty,” he states with conviction, taking Doyoung’s hand in his. “No matter what happens today, I’ll be with you. Always.”

Doyoung presses their foreheads together. “I know,” he says. “Me too.”

♘

The end of the Summer in the North is always marked by the Autumn’s first snowfall.

Jaehyun stares out the window as their carriage makes its way up the hazardous road to the Fortress. Doyoung squirms in his seat, restless. The thought of failing today makes his blood run cold and his heart speed up with terror. The Crown Prince strokes the back of his hand in rhythmic circles, but he still fails to calm him down.

“You need to collect yourself.” Jaehyun digs his fingers into Doyoung’s knee. “She has to think that you _know_ you will succeed today. That will make _her_ nervous.”

The Northern prince knows his husband is right, but he can’t help the way his stomach twists nervously at the sight of his childhood home—the Fortress of Stone.

Doyoung takes a deep, slow breath as their carriages drive into the Fortress’ entrance. It’s nothing sort of elegant or sophisticated like in the South, just a rock and gravel path that widens into a small plaza where the carriages can park.

Jaehyun hisses as he steps out into the cold. The wind up here is sharp and edged, and the Southern prince has to squint in order to protect his eyes. 

The Northern prince jumps out of the carriage, landing on two confident feet. He barely feels anything as the snowy wind threatens to cut his skin, and he rounds the car until he finds his three companions, all three of them with different expressions on their faces. Johnny avoids his eyes and looks down submissively, ashamed. Taeyong gives him a concerned look, ever the fussy friend. And lastly, Jaehyun stares into his eyes with conviction. The Crown Prince outstretches a hand, and Doyoung takes it in his without hesitation.

“Let’s do this, my prince.”

Doyoung leads them up the stone steps that give way to the main gate, where two armed guards bow at them before pushing the gates open.

“Your Royal Highness,” they address him as if he had never left.

Doyoung nods in acknowledgement, and he steps into the castle. He knows exactly where to find the monarchs, especially on such an important day. The Northerners live subjected to their traditions.

He walks towards the Throne Room, Jaehyun’s hand in his, and he knows he is correct the moment he sees the excessive amount of guards by the door of the room.

They all bow at him as well, and none of them as much as bat an eyelash at his presence—as if they had been expecting him. 

The doors creak loudly as they’re pushed open, and Doyoung strides into the room, Jaehyun beside him.

All the people present in the execution turn around at this sound, and they let out a collective gasp once they recognize the young man walking towards the thrones assuredly.

“Ah, Dongyoung,” his mother sighs unsurprised from her seat in the consort’s throne. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d make it in time.”

Doyoung ignores her, instead choosing to walk up to where his brother was kneeling before the thrones, dressed in prisoner’s clothes and all chained up. “Brother.” Doyoung holds back a sob as he helps Gongmyung stand up. “I’m here.”

Gongmyung chuckles with no energy. “Took you long enough.”

“Very well, you’ve greeted each other.” The Queen raises a hand to dismiss her youngest son. “Now step aside. We were in the process of judging the Crown Prince.”

Doyoung pushes Gongmyung behind him, standing up to his mother. “And what crimes is he being accused of that warrant a death sentence?”

The Queen’s gaze hardens, and she clenches her jaw. “You may judge for yourself, if you so wish. Bring her in.”

Two servants run into the chamber hidden in the corner of the room, and they drag a young woman out. Doyoung fails to identify her, that is until they push her to stand next to Gongmyung.

“Princess Seolhee!” Doyoung gasps, running to catch her before she falls, but Jaehyun is there faster. He holds her up with strong arms, shielding her from the fall. That’s when Doyoung notices the protective hand around her belly, which has begun to grow another life inside. “You’re with child.” Doyoung covers his mouth in shock, and he turns around to face his mother again. “You want to kill your son for giving you an heir?!”

The Queen scowls at him, and she shakes her head. “Not quite,” she answers. “The child growing inside her; it’s not your brother’s.”

Doyoung pales. “Excuse me?”

“The Crown Prince _allowed_ his wife to couple with her commoner lover until she became pregnant!” The Queen shouts, face red with rage. “He thought I would never discover the truth. He was planning on giving us a bastard for a King!”

“Your Majesty.” All of a sudden, Jaehyun steps up, moving to stand by Doyoung. “If I may ask, what are your plans after this execution takes place? Doyoung belongs to you no longer; his place and duties are in the South. He will never be able to rule in the North. If you kill the future King before he can give you a legitimate heir, you’re leading your Kingdom into unavoidable extinction,” Jaehyun reasons. “And rest assured, you will never claim Doyoung’s children as yours. I’ll kill you if you ever dare.”

The Queen gives Jaehyun a deadly stare. “Crown Prince Jaehyun of the Jeong dynasty, are you threatening me?”

“I am,” Jaehyun replies without a doubt. “I refuse to stand back and watch as you destroy your sons’ lives, as well as ruin the respectable Kingdom of the North.” He stands a little taller before continuing. “If you as much as touch a hair on Prince Gongmyung’s head, the South will declare war on you. I’d like to see how your small army holds up against ours.”

“You expect me to agree to this?” She screams, slightly panicked. Beside her, the King remains silent. “Am I supposed to accept the child of a commoner pig as the future monarch?”

“No,” Gongmyung speaks up for the first time, his voice hoarse and throaty. “If you let me live, as well as this child, I promise you we’ll give you a legitimate heir. But this one must live.”

The Queen adjusts herself in her seat, silent as she tries to make a choice that will determine the fate of the entire Kingdom. Jaehyun’s threat looms over her head, and she spares a few quick glances in his direction. Doyoung knows that if the South and the North go to war, the latter will be undoubtedly ravaged.

“Very well,” she finally says, and the entire room is filled with scandalized chatter. “But that child will not be recognized as a Prince or Princess of the North, and it will live with its legitimate father.”

Seolhee lets out a small sob of the relief, and she wraps her arms around Gongmyung. 

“The South will also have to offer us a compensation for its Crown Prince’s behavior today.” The Queen’s eyes pierce into Jaehyun’s threateningly. Jaehyun nods in agreement.

“Now get out of my sight,” she spits, pushing herself out of her seat. “Before I change my mind.”

Doyoung shoves himself into his brother’s arms, both of them staining each other’s shirts with tears. Gongmyung holds him for what feels like hours, until the room is empty, until the sky grows dark. But Doyoung never wants to let go.

“Prince Jaehyun,” the Northern Queen’s voice booms across the room. “Follow me.”

Jaehyun asks for Doyoung’s approval with a silent look, and the prince lets go of his brother to snatch his husband by the elbow.

“Not without me,” Doyoung pronounces without a shadow of a doubt.

His mother raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Come with me, then. Both of you.”

Doyoung could count the amount of times he’d stepped inside his father’s study on one hand. Like everything in the Fortress, it’s simple, discreet and mostly empty.

His father sits behind his desk, a collection of papers before him. 

“What’s all this?” Jaehyun asks, appropriately critical.

The Queen steps out from behind her husband’s chair. “Well, we certainly can’t come to an agreement simply through words.” She slams her hands on the papers, pushing them towards Jaehyun. “It must be recorded on paper as well.”

Jaehyun picks up a couple of them and skims over the words. “A peace treaty between the South and the North?”

“One that should prevent either of our armies from raising their weapons against each other, yes.”

“And a compensation,” Jaehyun reads, indignant. “ _For the troubles caused by the Crown Prince_.” He throws the papers on the table with barely contained anger. “You’re asking me to pay you to keep your son alive?!”

“Mother,” Doyoung steps in, clenching his fists to prevent them from shaking unstoppably. “Did you plan this?”

“This issue’s outcome is convenient for both of us, I’d say,” she reasons. 

Doyoung scoffs. “You knew I’d run across the continent the moment I was made aware of the accusations against Gongmyung, and that Jaehyun would follow me.” He shakes his head, incredulous. “No matter the outcome, you knew you were going to win.”

“And that’s what makes a good Queen, Dongyoung,” she smiles at him, sharp like a dagger. “You must ensure that you and your people always win. You must prepare for every possible situation.”

Doyoung hates it, but he can’t help but agree. His mother has won, and she has earned it. She has outsmarted all of them, keeping her Crown Prince alive while also forcing the South to put down their weapons and compensate the North for Jaehyun’s irresponsible behavior.

“Where do I sign?” Jaehyun sighs as he picks up the pen on the King’s desk.

“Jaehyun—”

“Doyoung,” the Crown Prince stops him with a raised hand. “You know I have to do this.”

The Northern prince steps back, reluctantly agreeing with his husband’s decision in silence. He watches as the Queen points to the dotted lines where Jaehyun’s signature is supposed to be written, and the sound of the pen over paper cuts through the air like a spell.

“There.” Jaehyun straightens again, capping the pen and leaving it on the desk. “It’s done.”

“Perfect,” the Queen clasps her hands together with finality as her husband collects the papers to sign them as well.

“You may stay the night if you wish,” the King offers with a weak voice. “The roads can be dangerous at night, and it’s too cold for the horses.”

Doyoung’s poor father—a man who has been stripped of his power, emasculated by a woman a thousand times smarter and more competent than him. As controlling as Doyoung knows himself to be, he could never see himself doing this to Jaehyun. As if Jaehyun’s obstinacy would ever allow it.

“Thank you, Father,” Doyoung takes the offer, as if he had the choice to decline. “I will show Jaehyun to the guest rooms myself.”

“And Dongyoung,” the Queen calls him before they can step out of the room. “I’m proud of you,” she claims, her eyes boring into her son’s.

Doyoung tries not to ponder on the implications of his mother’s words.

He sleeps in his brother’s bed that night. Seolhee runs off to her lover with the intention of informing him of the news, and Gongmyung bids her goodbye without offering any resistance, happy that her child will get to live a peaceful life with its father. That, Doyoung thinks, is the most noble show of love he’s ever seen, and he’s infinitely glad his brother and Seolhee found each other in such a cold and horrible place.

He clings to Gongmyung the entire night, inhaling his familiar scent to remember it once he returns to the South. Jaehyun, Taeyong and Johnny sleep in his childhood room, and none of them show any discomfort when Doyoung tells them that he wishes to sleep next to his brother that night.

“Why did you do it?” Doyoung asks in a whisper.

His brother breathes out heavily. “Because I love her, and I respect her. I didn’t want her to carry a child from a man she doesn’t love, at least not romantically.”

Doyoung shakes his head in disapproval. “It was awfully naïve of you to think that she could ever escape her duty as your wife and as a Princess of the North. You could have both died because of her caprices.”

Gongmyung avoids his eyes. “I suppose you’re right. You’ve always been the more logical brother out of the two of us.” He brushes a few rebellious strands of hair out of Doyoung’s eyes. “I’m glad you’ve learnt to trust your heart as well, sometimes.”

The young prince smiles softly. “I’ve had excellent tutors.”

The next morning, he wakes up to the sight of his brother, dressed in proper princely clothes as he stares out the window.

“Good morning,” he groans sleepily, pulling a smile out of Gongmyung. “How are you feeling?”

Gongmyung laughs as Doyoung walks up to him. “Never felt better,” he says. “Like I just got another opportunity to live.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes at the awfully inappropriate joke. “Yeah, yeah.”

His older brother turns to face him. “Listen to me,” he demands as he grabs Doyoung by the shoulders. “What you did yesterday… It was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. Standing up to the Queen like that, to your own mother—” He gulps loudly. “I almost died because I wasn’t brave enough to do it myself.”

“I had Jaehyun with me,” Doyoung clarifies. “He makes me stronger.”

Gongmyung smiles broadly. “He does, doesn’t he? I’m glad. You two will achieve great things together, turn our world into a better place.”

“You as well,” Doyoung retorts. “Once you become King. I have no doubt in my mind that you will save the North.”

His brother presses a kiss on his forehead. “I hope you’re right, Doyoungie.”

Doyoung tries to swallow his unease as he and his brother part. He knows that Gongmyung can take care of himself, that he has trained to become a King and is stronger than most men can dream of, but a deep fear has installed itself inside him.

“You need to relieve all this tension, my prince.” Jaehyun digs his fingers into Doyoung’s knotted shoulders while the drivers load their trunks. “The issue has been solved, and we both signed the peace treaty that allows the North to depend on the South financially. She’ll know better than to cross me, especially once I become King.”

Doyoung hisses when Jaehyun presses down on a particularly sore spot. “I won’t rest until she’s six feet under.”

His husband tries and fails to swallow the scandalized snort, and Doyoung feels some of his worries wear down by the sound of Jaehyun’s laughter. “We could always poison her,” the Crown Prince suggests, half-joking and half-serious.

Doyoung shakes his head. “No, let’s poison _him_ , the King. That way she’ll have to watch as my brother is crowned and he can have the satisfaction of banishing her.”

Jaehyun’s mouth falls open, and he looks at Doyoung with incredulous amusement. “You’re twisted.”

The Northern prince turns to face his husband, grabbing his hand before brushing his lips on the knuckles. “Me? Impossible.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Gongmyung’s mature voice pops their bubble, “but I thought you might want to say goodbye.”

“Brother.” Doyoung embraces him tightly, wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck. Beside them, Jaehyun approaches the princess with respectful shyness, and he shakes her hand more as a family member than as Crown Prince.

“Prince Jaehyun,” Gongmyung calls his attention once he lets go of Doyoung. “I want to thank you personally for what you’ve done for us, both Doyoung and I. I can see how well you take care of him.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes, while Jaehyun lets out a soft laugh. “In all honesty, I believe it’s Doyoung who takes care of me.”

Gongmyung gives him a wide smile. “I suppose he’s never been one to let others look after him.” He speaks as if Doyoung isn’t right there, and the younger prince slaps his shoulder playfully. The Crown Prince of the North rubs his shoulder as he chuckles, and then he turns to address Jaehyun again. “The North will forever be indebted to the South, so don’t hesitate to write if you are ever in need of anything, be it political or personal.”

Jaehyun nods, a little flustered. 

Taeyong walks up to them, bowing deeply at all four of them. “Your Highnesses, the carriages are ready. We must leave soon,” he informs them before running off again.

Doyoung hugs his brother one last time. “I wish you could stay for a bit longer,” Gongmyung sighs.

The younger prince grimaces as he steps back. “We have some very pressing matters to attend to in the South.” 

Jaehyun chuckles. “Don’t worry, Prince Gongmyung, you’ll hear about it soon enough.”

Gongmyung raises an eyebrow at both of them, but he refrains from asking again. He pats his brother’s cheek one last time before wrapping Jaehyun in a tight, homely embrace. Doyoung can’t help but laugh at the bright red shade of Jaehyun’s ears once the oldest prince lets go of him.

Doyoung’s smile falls the moment his eyes land on his parents’ forms, standing at the top of the stone steps. The Queen gives her son a hard, loveless stare before turning around and retreating into the Fortress. Submissive as always, the King follows her, but not after nodding respectfully.

“You should leave now,” Gongmyung reminds them. “Your advisor is growing restless.”

Doyoung snickers at the sight of Taeyong, who’s clearly holding himself back from walking up to the princes again and dragging them into their carriage.

“I’ll see you soon, brother,” says Doyoung.

“It’s a promise,” Gongmyung answers.


	10. ten

“Jaehyun, can I ask you a question?” The Northern prince asks as they ride through the Middlelander fields. They’ve been travelling for a couple of days now and have mostly ran out of conversation topics after hours upon hours of driving. Although, of course, there are other ways to entertain themselves, albeit a bit disrespectful to the poor driver. However, Doyoung has been itching to inquire his husband about this topic for a while now, and he believes he won’t find a better chance, especially not once they make it to the Southern capital.

Jaehyun gifts him a sweet smile. “You can ask me anything.”

Doyoung hums, and he tries to remain impassive as he asks his question. “What was your father like?”

The Crown Prince’s eyes widen, taken aback. He doesn’t necessarily look offended, but it’s clear that he wasn’t expecting that question. He reclines in his seat and pauses to think, while Doyoung waits patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t remember much, to be honest,” Jaehyun starts to narrate. “He was a very busy man, that much I know. Barely had time for me or my brother, nor did he show much interest in finding that time. I never loved him that much, or at least not as much as I love my mother.” He bites his bottom lip, a nervous habit he repeats whenever he concentrates on something. “His death, however, was devastating to me.”

“Why?” Doyoung frowns.

“Because it marked the end of my childhood,” Jaehyun reveals. “Not that I ever really had one to begin with, but I knew the moment he passed would be the moment I would be forced to wear his crown. And, predictably, a week later I was informed of our engagement.”

“What did you feel when they told you you were to marry me?” Doyoung continues to prod.

Jaehyun takes a deep breath, and he stares out the window as he ponders on his answer. “I suppose… I suppose I was afraid.”

“ _Afraid_?” The Northern prince gasps. “Of me?”

His husband scratches the side of his face. “You know how intimidating a faceless betrothed can be. I feared you wouldn’t like me, or the Palace, or your new life in the South. I was afraid you’d grow to hate me for chaining you to this life.”

Doyoung rubs Jaehyun’s cheek comfortingly before placing his fingers under his chin and forcing him to look at him. “I’m sure by now you’ve learnt that I can’t be chained.”

Jaehyun grins. “I’d say it’s a difficult feat, yes.”

“And that,” Doyoung continues, “although I wasn’t allowed to choose my path, I did have the choice to look for happiness in the one that I was given.”

“And have you found it?”

Doyoung leans in until their lips brush, and Jaehyun’s shaky breaths ghost over his mouth. “I might just have,” he admits, before sealing their lips together in a soft kiss.

♘

Their arrival in the South is made as discreet as possible, but their stealth proves to be useless the moment Taeyong lets out a horrified screech when he’s informed that the Queen made her husband’s death public while they were away.

“Your Majesty!” He exclaims once all four of them find her, sitting behind her desk in her room. “Your decision was terribly reckless! Making such an announcement without the Crown Prince… Jaehyun’s absence could be mistaken for carelessness! The people could turn against him before his reign even begins!”

“Taeyong Lee,” she stops him with her stiff queenly tone. “Remember your place. You are not my advisor, but my son’s, and you enabled _his_ reckless behavior when you decided to accompany him to the North without notifying me.”

Taeyong pales, mortified, and he looks like he might just faint on the spot.

“Mother, he was only trying to protect me,” Jaehyun steps in to defend his friend. “I was going to leave with or without him, and he realized that he would be of no use if he stayed behind.”

“I know that as well. It’s the only reason why I haven’t fired him yet,” the Queen retorts, looking angrier than Doyoung has ever seen her before. “You’ve always been a whimsical brat, so I suppose the matters of the heart won’t be any different.” Her gaze softens once her eyes land on Doyoung, and she lets out a long sigh. “Next time you feel the need to run off to save your love’s family, let me know first.”

Jaehyun’s face turns aggressively red, and he gives her a tiny hum of agreement. 

“I’m assuming it went well?” She asks, gaze on Doyoung.

The Northern prince nods energetically. “Yes, Your Majesty. We were able to stop the execution before it took place, and my brother has been absolved of all crimes.”

The Queen smiles at Doyoung with honest relief. “I’m very happy to hear that. Your brother will always find an ally in the Southern Kingdom. We’re family now, after all.”

Doyoung doesn’t even try to fight the proud smile that appears on his face. “We are.”

Jaehyun straightens beside Doyoung as the Queen moves from her seat to stand before him, placing her hands atop his shoulders. “My son,” she breathes out, like she’s about to break her own heart. “You will be crowned King in a month. Preparations have already begun, and the city is expectant to see you finally wearing the Crown.”

“What about you, Mother?” Jaehyun asks with concern, taking the Queen’s hands in his.

“My title as consort will be passed down to Doyoung, of course, and I will retire as Queen Emeritus and return to my family in the Middlelands.”

“Mother…” Jaehyun’s lip begins to tremble, and the Queen wraps her motherly arms around her distraught son.

“You’ll be okay, my son,” she comforts him with a hand on his cheek. “You will be the greatest King the South has ever seen.” Jaehyun closes his eyes as he lets his mother’s words permeate into him, laying his hand on top of hers. “You should go rest now,” the Queen recommends as she pulls away from the Crown Prince. “You must be tired after the very stressful trip.”

Jaehyun takes a hesitant step backwards, his eyes still on the Queen. 

“We will talk more tomorrow,” she assures him, and he nods.

“Very well. Good night, then,” he bids her farewell as he takes hold of Doyoung’s hand, pulling him out of the room as gentle as ever, although a bit impatient.

“Jaehyun, love, wait!” Doyoung halts in the middle of the corridor, stopping Jaehyun with their joined hands. “I’d like to have a word with Johnny before we go to bed.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen, and he lets go of Doyoung’s hand immediately. “Oh! Of course. I’ll go check on Blizzard!” He comes up with the feeble excuse with a panicked voice, and he runs off in the opposite direction as Doyoung turns around to face Johnny, who is just walking out of the Queen’s room as well.

“Prince Doyoung!” The tall man gasps when he notices the prince standing next to the door, and he straightens nervously.

“Calm down, John. I only wish to talk,” Doyoung promises.

Johnny looks at Taeyong, who—after analyzing Doyoung for a couple of seconds—squeezes his arms reassuringly and leaves the two of them in the otherwise empty corridor.

“What is it, Your Highness?” He asks, keeping a distance between them through Doyoung’s title.

The Northern prince takes a deep breath before speaking. “I’d like you to know that, although I am still hurt and distrustful, I have no wish to ruin the life you’ve built here.”

Johnny’s mouth hangs open. “Your Highness?”

“Some choices in life entail a dilemma, but others we just make difficult ourselves,” Doyoung thinks aloud. “What would I gain from exposing your betrayal, Johnny? Satisfaction? There is no satisfaction from pulling you away from the place you’ve learnt to call home, the people you’ve grown to love. Shit, even from me.” They both laugh, feeling more at ease. “I’ve had a lot of time to think during the ride back home, and I’ve come to understand that you are a victim of all of this,” he holds his hands up to gesture at the obnoxious luxury that surrounds them. “Just as Gongmyung is. I may not know why you did what you did, but I do know the kind of man that you are. And I know where your loyalty lies now. I… I want to forgive you,” Doyoung admits, too affected to look into Johnny’s intimidatingly deep eyes. “So, I am going to work on it.”

As predicted, when Doyoung finally looks up, he finds Johnny’s profound, emotive eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Doyoung,” he chokes on the Northern prince’s name.

“Don’t thank me yet, John. Just prove that I made the right choice.”

♘

Jaehyun and Doyoung spend the following month preparing for the Coronation Ceremony, both separately and together. They rehearse what must be a thousand times, and Doyoung wonders if he will be able to feel anything once the real Crown is placed on Jaehyun’s head after having seen it so many times.

Time becomes blurry as Doyoung buries himself under all the work. Surprisingly, it’s easy to pretend that you’re not on the way to become a King’s consort while you’re preparing to become a King’s consort. The responsibility of the title is overwhelming in ways that being a prince never was, but Doyoung supposes that’s the nature of a second prince—reality won’t reach you until you’ve fulfilled your purpose beside another, more powerful man.

There are two different duties to meet as the consort—one to the people, and one to the King. Doyoung has never felt too connected to his people, and he guesses that taking care of their King is, in a way, taking care of them as well.

Jaehyun barks out a laugh when Doyoung shares this reasoning with him, and he smiles into their kiss with gratitude and amusement.

♘

The night before the Coronation is a windy one. The sea breeze chimes into their room through the open balcony, filling the air with a salty smell.

Jaehyun peels his clothes off before sinking into the tub, resting his head and back on Doyoung’s bare chest.

“Long day?” Doyoung wonders, running his wet fingers through Jaehyun’s hair, dampening it.

“Not long enough,” Jaehyun groans, softening in Doyoung’s arms. “Despite all the preparations, a part of me thought this day would never come.” He tilts his head up to look at his husband. “Have you ever felt like that?”

Doyoung kisses the top of the Crown Prince’s head. “Of course I have. We all have. The human mind has intricate ways of protecting itself from pain.” He runs his fingers over a mole on Jaehyun’s shoulder absentmindedly. “I don’t think I was very present during our wedding.”

Jaehyun hums. “I don’t remember much either. Just flashes—colors, smells, flavors…”

“Tomorrow,” Doyoung interrupts him with purpose, “when the world becomes blurry and you start to feel numb, meet me here.”

Jaehyun sits up and turns around to look straight into Doyoung’s eyes. “Just us?”

“Just us. Well, and Blizzard too, of course.” He points to their cat, patiently waiting for them outside of their bathroom.

Jaehyun snorts, and he wraps his arms around Doyoung’s neck, adjusting himself on his husband’s lap. “Just the family, then.”

“Just the family,” Doyoung confirms before smashing his lips against Jaehyun’s.

♘

The morning of Jaehyun’s Coronation, Doyoung barely has time to wake up before he’s dragged out of bed and pushed into a dressing room.

It all reminds him too much of his wedding—the panicked maids, the arrogant cosmetologists, the exhausted seamstresses… The only difference he can see is the fact that Jaehyun is standing right next to him, a cluster of servants surrounding him as well. 

Doyoung can’t help his surprise when he sees the garments that the seamstress has sewn for him. The dark blue color is unlike anything he’s ever seen in the South, and the clothes fit him tighter than he’s used to when wearing Southern dresses, but the bottom half still flows light and freely.

“I asked them to design it for you specifically,” Jaehyun tells him as he walks to stand behind him, and their eyes meet on the mirror. “I loved the way you looked in your Northern clothes, and I thought it would be adequate to build you a dress that shows both sides of you—North and South.”

Doyoung doesn’t miss the band tied across Jaehyun’s chest, over his immaculate white suit. It’s made out of the exact same fabric as Doyoung’s hybrid dress, in the same color.

“Jaehyunnie...” Doyoung turns around to face his husband, running his hands across Jaehyun’s chest and over the band. “I love it. Thank you.” He pecks the Crown Prince’s lips chastely.

Taeyong steps into the room, interrupting their kiss, and he gives both of them a serious look. He looks more frightened than either of the princes do, which doesn’t come as a surprise. “It’s time. The Throne Room awaits you,” he announces with shaky hands and a sweaty forehead.

Doyoung slips out of Jaehyun’s embrace, but he keeps their fingers intertwined. “Come on, my prince,” he says, using the name his husband likes to use on him. “Let’s make you a _king_.”

The ceremony takes Doyoung by surprise in its simplicity. The two princes are escorted to the Throne Room by a large group of guards, who stand aside to allow them to step into the room hand in hand. 

Doyoung hides his nervousness behind a proud gaze, protecting himself from the scrutinizing eyes of the Southern Court. At the very end of the Room, right next to the platform where the thrones stand, Donghyuck waves at them, flashing them both a bright grin.

Jaehyun takes a seat in his father’s throne, which is just as extravagant as expected—carved in the finest wood and sewn together with golden threads. It’s gorgeous, Doyoung can’t deny it, and Jaehyun looks like nothing but the King he was born to become as he sits down, placing his arms on both armrests.

Doyoung’s throne is much less obnoxious, as it is the Consort’s Throne, but the design matches the King’s perfectly—it’s obvious that they were made as a two-piece set.

The Queen walks into the room, dressed in her best gown, which flows around her as she strides towards the two thrones. Three servants follow her, two of which hold her skirt as she walks up the steps to the platform where Jaehyun and Doyoung sit, and the other one holds a cushion with two crowns. She stands before her son, cupping his face with her elegant and long hands—much like Jaehyun’s—and rewarding him with the most loving and proudest smile. The third servant kneels next to her, hiding his head below the cushion. 

“Prince Jaehyun of the Jeong dynasty,” she pronounces, “is Your Highness willing to take the Oath?”

Jaehyun holds her gaze with bravery. “I am willing.”

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of the Southern Kingdom and of your Possessions and the other Territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?”

“I solemnly promise to do so,” Jaehyun recites.

“Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?”

“I will,” he swears.

The Queen nods, and she takes the King’s crown in her delicate hands. It’s a work of art, made of gold with embedded jewels, nothing like the silver crown Doyoung’s father wears in the North. “I hereby declare you King of the South,” she announces before placing the crown on Jaehyun’s head. “Long may you reign.”

“Long may he reign!” The court erupt in cheers, and the former Queen steps aside so the King can wave at his people.

The King. Jaehyun.

It’s all so surreal.

Doyoung spaces out until he notices his mother in law standing beside him, his tiara in her hands. “And this is yours,” she sings as she rests the more modest crown on his head. “There’s no official protocol or ceremony for the consort, but Jaehyun wanted you to wear your crown today as well.”

Doyoung blushes a slight red. Of course Jaehyun thought of that—he’s so thoughtful and considerate and empathetic. 

“He will be an outstanding King,” he tells the Q—Yuna as he stands up from his seat, ready to follow his escorts to the banquet room.

“He will,” she agrees, watching with fond eyes as Jaehyun extends his arm for Doyoung to wrap his own around.

The King and his consort are first lead to the Palace’s main balcony, where they greet the commoners who had come to witness the event. For a child who had been raised in the ever-present loneliness of the North, seeing such a massive crowd at his feet makes him feel lightheaded.

Jaehyun flashes them his dimpled smile, waving for what feels like hours. It’s clear that the people love him, perhaps for his looks, for his softness, for his kindness. Regardless of the reason, Jaehyun is _so loved_. He glows under the attention, shines in it, and truly becomes a sight to behold—an indescribable beauty.

Doyoung wants nothing more than to snatch his husband away and keep him to himself forever, but his wishes are trashed the moment Taeyong ushers them back inside before finally leading them into the banquet room.

He barely gets to exchange a single word with Jaehyun during the entire event. Different noblemen and women drag him into their conversations, trying to butter him up to win the new King’s favor or simply to be in his presence and have something to brag about to the lesser noblemen. Plenty of people approach Doyoung as well, some to wax poetry about his beauty, and others to discuss politics in the North. It’s all excruciatingly boring, and Doyoung wants nothing more than to grab Jaehyun by his collar and lock him in their room.

It seems like hours pass before Doyoung catches a glimpse of Jaehyun again, although it’s not too difficult to guess where he might be, since there’s a buzzing crowd surrounding him at all times. His head finally sticks out from above a tiny but flamboyantly dressed woman, and his eyes somehow find Doyoung’s from across the room.

Doyoung has never been one to waste an opportunity.

He points to the door with a tilt of his head, and Jaehyun nods in understanding, following Doyoung with his eyes as well as he can from behind the crowd.

Doyoung doesn’t bother to check if his husband is behind him, and he continues with his walk, sprinting up the stairs to the private floors. 

The guards before their bedroom door show no surprise at the sight of him, and they obediently push the doors open. Doyoung skips into the room happily, stopping before the glass doors that lead into their private balcony. He pushes them open with confident hands and walks outside until his front meets the stone railing, and he stops to stare into the sea peacefully, enjoying the quiet after such a bustling and busy day.

“Hey!” Jaehyun’s warm voice brings him back to reality, and he turns around to see his husband walk out and into the balcony, panting from having ran to meet him.

“Hello,” Doyoung smirks playfully, resting his weight on his elbows. He steps back as Jaehyun approaches him, allowing his husband to press him against the railing as their lips meet in a passionate but slow kiss.

“It’s good to finally see you,” Doyoung teases him, breath against his lips. “My love, my King,” he says between kisses.

“I think I like the first title better than the second one,” Jaehyun jokes, smiling into their lip lock.

“Both are undoubted,” Doyoung argues.

Jaehyun steps back to look into his consort’s eyes. “You love me undoubtedly?”

“Of course I do,” Doyoung assures him. He presses one final kiss to Jaehyun’s plump mouth before turning around in his arms to look into the sea again, humming in comfort when Jaehyun wraps his arms around his waist and presses their bodies close. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

“It seems like it was just yesterday that you screamed at me in the Gardens,” Jaehyun chuckles, burying his face in Doyoung’s neck.

“I was a fool then, a slave to what I thought were the right ideals,” Doyoung shakes his head. “Such freedom comes with acceptance. And don’t mistake it for resignation. Accepting is understanding; once I understood the purpose of our marriage, I was able to accept my fate as well, and only then did my heart grow to love you as much as it does today. If I had refused to understand, and had resigned myself to this life, I would have never allowed myself to love you out of pure rage. And _that_ is something I could never forgive myself for.”

Jaehyun tightens his grip around Doyoung’s waist. “I agree. Not loving me is unforgivable.”

Doyoung squirms out of Jaehyun’s arms, and he slaps his arm playfully. “Why would you ruin my sentimental moment like that?”

“Because I love you as well,” Jaehyun laughs, embracing Doyoung again. “And I love to tease you. And I love to touch you,” he whispers, lowering his hands on Doyoung’s back and pressing a line of wet kisses on his neck.

“Is that so?” Doyoung smiles, full of happiness and pleasure and bliss.

“I do.” Jaehyun untangles himself from his husband, and he starts to walk backwards into the room, lifting a hand for Doyoung to hold. “Let me show you.”

Doyoung takes Jaehyun’s hand, and he allows his husband to lead him inside, into their room, into their life, and into their shared future.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who made it here!! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This fic almost poured out of me, but I'm still proud of myself for working on it consistently and making it to the end (which I rarely do in fics as long as this one). 
> 
> In any case, thank you so much for reading and I hope we can meet again soon!!


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